Survival Instincts
by Nureek
Summary: Strange things happen on board Andromeda which stresses the relationship between the crew and Harper. With an Angst-filled gooey goodness center. NOW COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

Title: Survival Instincts

Author: Nureek

Rating: R (It's gonna get real ugly)

Disclaimer: If I owned Andromeda, well we won't go there, but I'd be rich and would not be on this board, I'd be in Tahiti, with my mini-Harper, catching some waves. But I don't own Andromeda, or any of their characters. Man disclaimers are depressing.

Summary: Strange things happen when the crew studies an unusual nebula. Harper centric with a dren-load of angst!

Spoilers: For safety, let's just say up to season three. And this ignores The Tunnel at the End of the Light and all of season 3(bad season 3)

Survival Instincts

Chapter 1

The purple light from the gaseous glowing nebula radiated into the bridge of the starship Andromeda and was absorbed by the faces of the crew. 

"It's beautiful," the gold Trance remarked in awe.

"It's justa diffuse mass of interstellar dust and gas which is visible as luminous patches of darkness depending on the way the mass absorbs or reflects incident radiation." Rommie dryly stated. "Though it would be much more interesting if all of my sensors were on-line....Harper?"

"I"m working on it Rom-doll, hold your horses" the engineer answered over the coms. He was deep inside the ship's VI matrix trying to fine tune some of the sensors to pick up as much data on the nebula as possible.

A few days ago, Trace discovered the nebula on long range sensors. It had very unusual energy readings. Higher energy readings than had ever been seen before in any nebula. So she managed to bug the crew until they gave in and headed off towards the rarity for some scientific study. 

"Do you feel the energy radiating off of it?" asked Trace. She was in a complete state of bliss - eyes closed, just taking it all in.

"I feel my cells being destroyed," complained Tyr. "Ship, are you sure the radiation isn't too high?"

"It's well within safety parameters" replied the annoyed hologram.

Beka was standing at the pilot station watching the galactic dust and gas. "It's pretty Trance, but I've got a bad feeling about this place."

"Me too," chimed in the 300 year old captain who was standing next to Beka. "Let's just get the readings and get out of here."

Beka gave a concerned smile, "This is a switch. We're getting the hunches and Trance isn't. Now I REALLY don't like this place."

After a few minutes of silent watching and waiting, Dylan finally spoke up, "Harper, how close are you to getting those sensors working?"

"About twenty more minutes boss. What's the hurry, you're not enjoying being a space tourist? Ya wanna go find someone to shoot at us?" replied the disembodied voice of the engineer.

Dylan rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. "No Mr. Harper, we just have a bad fe......" The captain was interrupted when he looked back at the view screen. The nebula was changing and expanding at great speed towards them. "ANDROMEDA REPORT!"

"All of my working sensors are overloaded. I can't get any readings." 

"BEKA! GET US THE HELL OUT OF HE....." But Dylan's order was cut short by an energy blast that shot out of the expanding nebula. The blast raced towards the ship, passing through the outer hull and hurtled towards the shocked crew.

The wave first hit Beka and Dylan. The energy pulsed through their fragile bodies as they screamed in agony and fell unconscious to the ground. Before any of the others could react, the wave was upon them too. Trance let out a blood curdling scream and then went limp to the floor. Even the stoic Tyr screamed in pain before he collapsed to the hard metal grating. Rommie was silent as the energy wave rushed through all of her robotic systems, frying each one until she joined the rest on the floor, unconscious and smoldering.

Even the ship's AI was not left untouched. As the destructive energy wave ripped through her main processing center, a huge surge of power pulsed through every bit of the ship's system. Unfortunately, the last conscious crew member's mind was in the ships system when the pulse raged through. Harper was slumped over in a conduit deep within Andromeda plugged into her matrix. When the energy pulse hit the system he was working in, his motionless body jerked up. A primal scream of pain ripped out of his throat as sparks flew from his data port.

A few seconds later it was all over. The nebula returned to it's previous size and the wave dissipated. All throughout Andromeda, it was dark and motionless. Only emergency power was on and command was illuminated by an eerie shade of purple from the nebula. Lying on the cold floor was Trance, Beka, Tyr and Dylan, all with small trickles of blood flowing out of their ears. Laying next to them was Rommie who was smoldering and unmoving. And in the conduit, laid Harper with puss and blood pouring out of his data port.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The unnerving silence in command was finally broken with a groan originating from the large Nietzschean. He quietly pushed himself up with much effort and then surveyed his surroundings.

The bridge was still an eerie shade of purple from the now normal nebula. What few internal light that were on, were flashing in such a way to raise one's blood pressure by simply being in their presence. Luckily, besides for the lack of power, there was no other damage. Looking around for his comrades he found them all slowly stirring back to life. All save the annoying engineer and the android. The first was missing, the second was just a mass of collapsed metal still smoldering on the ground, unmoving. 

The captain was the second to rise. Like the others, his ears had stopped bleeding but the dried blood lingered on his head and neck; a sign that not all was right. Dylan bent down to help up his second in command, who stood up with a groan. 

The strange gold alien had already picked her colorful body off the cold grated floor from the back command. She was now making her way up front with Tyr to join her other crewmates. 

The crew of the Andromeda Ascendant were unusually quiet. They all were just staring at the nebula. All had a longing look in their eyes. The same look you see in wary travelers once they finally spot their long sought after destination. The usually quite Try was the first one to break the almost religious silence. 

"So that is what our home looks like. Wow, it's beautiful." More emotion filled his voice than had ever been heard before in public. 

But the others were not surprised at his out of character behavior. Instead, Beka walked up next to the Nietzschean and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Yes it is quite a sight, but we have more important things to do than stare at our home." Beka then moved in front of the group, commanding their attention. "If you haven't guessed already, I'm Velac. Get used to me in this body from now on," she spoke with the grace of a leader. "I need to know where everyone ended up. All report."

The alien controlling Dylan's body made him step forward. "Fex here." His usually calm and collected voice was filled with anger and defiance. "The vessel I'm in is under my complete control now."

Next to step forward was Trance's body, but her body seemed to hesitate. Her legs shook and fought as her alien invader forced it forward. "Nixic here," came out Trances voice, quite and subdued. "I'm having a bit of trouble controlling this one. She has a quite strong and unusual mind. What we learned from the simulations don't seem to be working on her." The last part was said almost with a quiet panic.

Beka's commanding voice replied, "Well then try whatever you can. I can't have one of you failing. You know what will have to be done if you can't get control." 

Trance's eyes filled with horror from both minds trapped within the body. They both shared each other memories and knowledge. They both knew what Beka/Velac was referring too. If any of the bodies could not be controlled, than that body, with it's new alien owner, must die. The other's would not take any risk of the mission failing. It was too important to them to let one weak link ruin it for all the rest. "Don't worry Velac. That won't be a problem." she quietly replied. Trance's mind had let Nixic take over to save both of their lives. Trance felt some goodness in Nixic and did not want either to be harmed.

Tyr was the last one to step forward. "Stolic reporting." His voice was full of false bravado. "This one's mind was strong, but I've got control now. No one is a match for the great and powerful Stolic of the Tolken Nebula!" he shouted out the last part as he raised one of his newly acquired powerful arms in the air.

Dylan/Fex rolled his eyes and mumbled under his breath, "Tell me again how we got stuck with this child?"

"I"m not a child!! I'm almost an adult!" rebutted the childlike Tyr.

Beka again stepped up to take control of the situation. "Fex, we all know why the Ruler's nephew is here. It is because that is how he wanted it. We have no say in the matter, so DEAL WITH IT!!! And Fex, if you cause us any problems, don't think just because you are royalty the same rules don't apply to you. If you, by any means, endanger the mission, I will slit that nice new throat of your with my own nice new fingernails! Understand?" 

"Yes sir" Fex answered as he forced Tyr's head down.

Beka/Velac grunted with approval and started to look around the dimly lit command. Her eyes stopped when they caught the still form of Rommie on the floor. Velac ordered Beka's body to cross to the back of command and to knell down next to the still form of the android. Beka/Velac then ran her hand across the surface of the motionless being. It was smooth, cold, and hard. Velac could sense no life force radiating from it. 

"Well?" asked Tyr/Stolic impatiently.

"It seems to be an artificial life form of some sort. It looks like the power from our transfer overloaded all of it's circuits. It's out for good." Beka/Velac replied with a cold matter of fact tone. There was no hint of Beka Valentine in that tone, only the actually sound of the voice was hers. 

Dylan's body was forced to move up next to Beka's. "If that's not the fifth life form we detected than where the hell is it and where is Melak?" spoke an agitated Dylan/Fex.

Beka's head dropped with a sigh as her eyes rolled upward. "I"m surrounded by idiots," she mumbled. "Fex, moron, use the host's memory, that's what it's there for!" she emphasized her point by smacking the back of Dylan's head.

"Ouch!" reacted both Dylan and Fex.

Beka/Velac started pacing in front of the others while she searched Beka's memories to find what she needed to know. "The fifth life form was that of the engineer, Seamus Harper. He was last on level 12, in conduit 23," she paused as she formulated a plan. "Let's get the power back on-line, then deal with Harper and the AI." 

The others silently nodded in agreement. Velac then commanded Beka's body over to one of the computer consoles. Velac placed the first officer's hand on to the cool smooth surface of the console. Energy rushed through her body and flowed out of her hand and into the computer. A nano-second later, the lights in command flashed back on. Computer stations roared to life and the engines could be heard to be powering back up. Life flowed once again through Andromeda.

"Now we are enlightened," joked Tyr/Stolic through blinded eyes.

"Idiot" mumbled Beka/Velac and Dylan/Fex in unison. 

"Can we please get back to work now?" Dylan/Fex sarcastically asked as he gave Tyr's body an evil glance.

Tyr looked down and gave a small nod. 

Trance/Nixic quietly broke in with some information, "Communications are back up, and the ship's AI is partially back up. Luckily, it's control of the internal defenses and many other internal systems are off line." Trances' fingers punched some more commands into the console she was standing at. "And it's not responding to my orders. It might know that something is wrong and is not taking our commands, or it's sensors are off line and it can't register my orders. Either way, we need to hurry to get it off line."

Beka/Velac took command and started to bark out orders, "First, let's see if we can find out what's happened to the fifth one. Fex, do your thing," 

Dylan's eyes went off of Beka's curvy frame and focused on thin air in front of him. Fex was trying to conjure up Dylan's personality to use over the comms. "Harper report," he finally said.

"......."

"Mr. Harper, come in."

"......." Still nothing.

"Are you sure the comms are working?" Dylan/Fex asked to no one in particular.

Trance/Nixic looked at the display to double check the information, "Yes, it's working."

Dylan/Fex stood up straighter and held his head up high. "Mr. Harper, you better answer now or I will come down and throw your skinny ass in the brig!!!"

"........"

"What the hell was that!!!" screamed the leader of the aliens in Beka's body. "That IS NOT how Dylan Hunt talks! Idiots!" Beka's legs started to amble around command. Her body was tense and filled with frustration. "Damn, something must have gone wrong. Melak should be in control of Harper's body by now." Beka stopped walking and faced the others. "Nixic, come with me. We must locate the engineer and find out what happened. Fex and Stolic you get the AI off line before she gains controls of more systems. Oh and don't kill each other." she added with a sigh. She then headed off with Trance towards Harper's last and current location.

Meanwhile, the dim, small conduit they were heading for was still quiet and motionless. The blonde engineer laid on the hard metal grid. The normally clean metallic disk on his neck was now coated with blood. The skin around the port was already starting to blister and swell. Fortunately, Harper felt nothing and saw only blackness.

"Harper."

A sound had broken through into his dark, peaceful world.

"Harper, come on, wake up."

The voice was getting louder and pulling him away from his nice quiet void.

"Come on Harper. If you wake up now I'll let you interface with me."

That offer finally force the horny little mudfoot out of the dark and back to the painful blinding light. "What, uh?" he managed to get out as he shot up from his previous prone position. Which, as an afterthought, was a very bad idea. His raw port felt like it was on fire, covered in acid, with millions of nano-sized magog feeding on it. His head felt like each synapse were being sucked down a black hole while being shot at by Drago Kazov 

ships. He now very much missed the darkness.

"Harper....focus. It's me, Andromeda." instructed the painfully loud voice from nowhere.

"Ooohhh, man.....what happened?" he asked as he mistakenly reached for his data port. The second he touched it, he regretted ever having lived. Pain, ten times of that of before, shot through his neck, up to his brain, and out through his eyes. He groaned and curled up into a ball with his back against the conduit's cool wall.

The familiar voice continued. "Harper, are you with me?" Even with being a machine, Andromeda still felt concern for her favorite engineer. His port looked awful and his complexion was paler than normal, but they had bigger problems to deal with. 

"Yah," he groaned out warily.

"We have a serious problem." she stated as sternly as possible. She needed him to focus. She didn't have much time and he was their only hope. We're all dead she thought to herself.

"I really don't like the sound of that. Spit it out Andromeda," Harper said as he adjusted himself into a more comfortable sitting position.

"There was a blast of energy .... or something from the nebula. It went through the whole ship, even my main frame. It caused a massive power serge through all of my systems. That is what kicked you out. But I'm more concerned with the effect it had on the rest of the crew," she paused to make sure Harper was still focusing and listening. "I was off line for a while, I'm not sure how long, but as soon as I came back on-line, I knew something was wrong with everyone else. They were all on command, all acting very unlike themselves. The first thing I heard was Tyr making a very bad joke, a pun even."

At that Harper's head shot up, his blood shot eyes filled with concern and worry. "Tyr?...made a.....joke?? Ok, now I'm worried and scared."

Andromeda continued to explain how bad the situation really was, "I kept quiet and just kept watching them, I'm not sure if they know I know something is wrong. My current theory is that somehow aliens from the nebula have taken over the other's bodies. They are even calling each other by different names."

"Great, invasion of the body snatchers, just what we needed ....... Andromeda? Are you sure about this? Are you sure some of your sanity systems are not malfunctioning?" asked Harper as he raised an eyebrow in question, which, he really shouldn't have done seeing that moving his eyebrows even hurt.

Andromeda didn't have time for this, "Yes Harper, I'm sure. Now please shut up and listen, we don't have much time." 

Harper was taken aback by her forwardness, but shut his mouth and listened.

"The more urgent problem is that the aliens are trying to shut me down. It feels like they are just going for the AI core, not ship operations." Andromeda finished. She could feel parts of her being erased. Fear was racing through her circuits. 

"Shit," spat out Harper. "Wait, what about Rommie? She shouldn't have been taken over like the others." Hope filled his face. He didn't want to face this alone.

"She's out cold. The energy wave fried all of her circuits. I'm not even sure if you could fix her," she answered with sorrow laced in her voice.

Harper' head dropped. Tears built up behind his eyes. This was just not going to be a good day. "Andromeda," he paused, "Do you have any more info?"

"Just that everyone's energy readings are higher than normal. The extra energy must be coming from the aliens in their bodies. Harper, you have to find a way to........."

Silence.

Harper straighten up through the pain. "Andromeda?" fear filled his voice.

".........."

"ANDROMEDA!!!" he screamed, hoping beyond hope for a response but only unnerving silence answered him back.

Harper's blood shot eyes were now as wide as they could possible get. What little color that was left in his face drained out.

"Andromeda?" he whispered right before he buried his painful head in his shaking hands.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: For all you fellow Ex-Slipstreamers: Just in case you didn't know there are two main message boards where many of the Slipstreamers went. One is Ex Isle, http://www.exisle.com/cgi-bin/ikonboard.cgi The other is Slipstream Underground, http://pub98.ezboard.com/bslipstreambbs12353

Now onto the angst! 

Chapter 3

Harper stayed in his hunched over shaking position, just listening to the overwhelming silence. There was no more Andromeda and no more friends. All he could hear was the purr of power running through the ship. He slowly picked his throbbing head out of his hands. His brilliant brain was slowly starting to work past his over welling pain and fear to form a plan.

"Okay, Seamus, pull yourself together. You can do this," he said to himself reassuringly. But do what, he thought.

"I gotta get Andromeda back on-line," he whispered. He reached out for the free end of his connector cable. It was lying on the ground next to him where it landed when it got wrenched out of his port earlier. The other end was still connected to the computer panel. He examined the free end as he picked it up. It was coated in a thick, sticky, dark red goo. His blood. 

"Great," he grumbled to himself. He then took one hand to his brightly colored orange shirt and wiped the substance off the rod. Next he reached up, with the rod in his shaky hand, and placed it at the opening of his bloody, swollen port.

"This is gonna hurt," he mumbled as he started to push the rod in. As it entered the port, a scream escaped his lips. His quivering hand tried to push the connector in father, but the pain just increased as the rod got deeper. Finally, the rod could go no farther. Through agonizing pain, Harper realized that he was not connecting to the matrix. He tried to push the connector in farther, but it would not budge. The harder he pressed it in, the more pain shot through every nerve in his body. As his whole body shook, he realized it would not work and painfully pulled the connector out. Deep red blood dripped off the emerging rod and flowed out of the metal port.

"Crap," hissed Harper through clenched teeth. The tissue in his port was so swollen that the connectors on the rod and in his neck could not touch each other and therefore could not transmit information. Because of this there was no way he could jack in to re-boot the AI. Even the VI goggles could not give him the freedom in the system to do what he needed to do.

"Aggghhhh," he grunted as realized this. He once again threw his pounding head into his hands. Trying to re-boot Andromeda manually could take days, and that was if the aliens simply took her off-line. It could take weeks if they did worse. Hell, he might not even be able to bring her back at all.

"Think, genus, think," he commanded as he rocked back and forth in his confining conduit. His plotting was interrupted when the ship jolted under him and he fell onto his side onto the grated floor. Slipstream. Someone just entered Slipstream and was piloting his Andromeda.

"THAT'S IT!" he yelled as he jumped up, hitting his already sore head on the low hard ceiling. "Ouch," he mumbled as he collapsed back onto the familiar floor, rubbing his spiky and now bruised head. 

After a second of self pity for his new boo-boo, he picked himself back up and started crawling down the conduit. His destination was the Slipstream core. "If I can't get Andromeda back, then at least I can stop them in their tracks." He giggled at his clever rhyme. "I think that bonk to my head is effecting me......maybe I should just go and have some tea."

Giggles could be heard reverberating throughout the conduits.

-------------

All that could be heard in one of the many corridors on Andromeda was two pairs of boots, hitting the grated floor at a very fast pace. Suddenly, a voiced boomed over the comms, breaking the semi-silence.

"Velac, we are underway to the rendezvous point," boomed Dylan's voice. "We should reach it in about 2 days."

"Good," replied one of the two women who were hastily making their way down the empty corridor. Beka and Trance's minds could hear, see, and feel everything that was happening. The only thing they couldn't do was control anything. They knew what the aliens were commanding their bodies to go do. They were heading off to find Harper, their friend, part of their small family. Both women wanted to yell out, to fight. But the more their minds fought the intruder, the more pain the aliens inflected on them. They were completely helpless.

Dylan's harsh voice spoke again, "How's the hunt for the mudfood going?"

Beka's new commanding harsh voice answered, "We're almost where the computer says his life signs are originating from. We'll know really soon what happened." The two Maru crew members continued on their fast pace down the corridor towards their prey. Suddenly, they both stopped dead in their tracks. They could feel Harper's energy pattern. He was near.

"Damn," hissed Beka/Velac. "Do you feel him?'

"Yes and Melak isn't with him. I cant sense Melak anywhere," whispered back Trance/Nixic.

"Something must have gone wrong, Melak was strong, he should have easily taken over that weak one's mind," hissed Beka's cold voice.

"What do you want to do?" questioned Trance/Nixic.

"Beka seems to think he's a genius of some sort. Maybe our allies would like him as a nice gift when we finally meet up with them," Velac forced Beka's voice to say.

"Trance holds him in high regards too. Plus, apparently he came from a slave planet. That should make him easy to brake," Trance/Nixic said. The real Trance was screaming as her body was forced to say such a thing. Apparently, Nixic wasn't as nice as Trance hoped. As she once again fought her invader, pain from Nixic ripped through her mind. 

Back in the corridor, Trance's body doubled over.

"What is it?" coarsely questioned Beka/Velac.

"I-It's Trance's mind. S-She's fighting me again," Nixic struggled to get the sentences out of Trance's mouth. Suddenly, both Trance and Nixic heard Beka's body move and heard the sound of her gun charging. They also felt a cold smooth blunt point be placed on Trance's temple. 

"Get her under control, or I will fire. I know she's hard to kill, but I think a shot through the head might do some nice damage," Beka/Velac quietly and calmly said.

Trance fought harder, hoping to overcome Nixic and fake still being invalided. Unfortunately, Nixic was not so weak. She, he, it forced more pain into Trance's mind. The harder Trance fought, the more intense the pain got. She finally had to give control back to Nixic, both in exhaustion and in order to save her body. She gave up her fight and returned to the darkness of her own mind.

Trance's body stopped shaking and snapped back up to a standing position. "Sorry about that Velac It won't happen again," Nixic forced Trance to say.

"It better not," hissed Beka/Velac. "If it does......," she was cut off by the sound of running feet coming down the corridor perpendicular to them. "Just follow my lead," she whispered into Trance's golden pointy ear.

------------

The blonde engineer was now racing towards the Slipstream core through the larger corridors. He had to leave the safety of the conduits to make it to his destination. He was sprinting around a corner when he slammed into two soft bodies. All three tumbled backwards, letting out a collective groan as they hit the hard floor.

"Harper! Watch where your going!" shouted out Beka's tone of voice.

"Where are you going in such a hurry anyways?" asked Trance/Nixic as innocently as possible.

Harper rubbed his now sore back and cocked his head. Tons of thoughts were running through his mind. What was going on here? They were acting perfectly normal. A trap maybe? Or maybe this was all a prank from Andromeda to get him back for making her sensors believe there were 3,000 Dylans onboard last week.

"Harper?" questioned Beka/Velac with a hint of concern coming into her voice. She started to dust herself off and get back up.

Harper was still silent as he pulled his aching body off the floor. No no. Andromeda wouldn't burn his port for a prank. The aliens must just be playing with him, hoping he was dumb and wouldn't see through their little rouse. But he wasn't called a genius for nothing.

"What? Oh, sorry girls. Just going for a jog, you know, trying to bulk up. Trying to give Tyr and Dylan a run for their money on the "Hunky Men of Andromeda" title. Well, it was nice running into you both, literally, but I gotta go back to working out now." He flexed his sleeve covered arm and felt his bicep. "I've got a lot of catching up to do, bye!" With that he turned to flee, but didn't get too far as he felt Trance's strong hand grab his arm. Beka came around in front of him and invaded his personal space.

"Oh, come on Seamus, you already won the hunk award in our eyes. Do you want to claim your prize?" Beka voice said seductively.

"W-What prize," shuddered out the horny Harper.

Trance/Nixic then moved closer to his body and wrapped one of her legs around one of his shaking legs. She then started to lightly blow on the non-injured side of his neck. "The prize is that you get to live out your fantasy. Beka on bottom, me on top and you," she paused as she slowly licked the back of his neck. "and you in the middle."

Harper shuddered and his heart rate went through the roof. His Super-Ego was desperately trying to beat down his raging Id with a nice phallic shaped club. No, no, no. Bad evil aliens, must resist, he thought. He regretfully pushed the lustful girls away from him. His Id slumped down and started crying.

"I-I-I'm sorry ladies, but the Harper body is off limits. You know, training and all, gotta keep the mind clear." He slowly started to back away from the curvy, seductive, attractive women. As he quicken his backward retreat, both females kept pace with him.

"OH! HI DYLAN!!" Harper yelled out as he pointed over the girls' shoulders. Both of the aliens turned their attention away from Harper to look for the larger man.

"Suckers," whispered Harper as he turned and fled down the corridor. By the time Trance and Beka turned back to face Harper, all they saw was an empty corridor. 

"Damn," they both cursed under their breaths. But deep, deep inside Beka and Trance's mind, Harper's true friends were cheering.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The long empty corridor stared back at the two women with spiteful glee. Trance/Nixic was the first to break the silence. "What now Velac?"

Beka's eyes gleamed with the hope of vengeance. "We get him and we have some fun with him. Then we hand him over to our allies so they can have some fun with him." 

"Where do you think he was heading too?" asked the imposter within Trance.

Both ladies paused while they searched their host's memory and knowledge. They then exchanged knowing glances and chimed out in unison.

"Slipstream core."

Beka voice could then be heard alone, still full of confidence and intensity. "You head off to the core and wait for him. I'll head back up to command and take over piloting. I think with Beka's skills we might shorten our trip. I'll send Fex and Stolic down to the core to help you, um, contain our problem child." She said with a evil wink and an even eviler smile.

"Ok," replied Trance/Nixic as she started to head off towards the Slipstream core. She only got a few steps before she heard Beka's voice adding some last minute instructions.

"Just remember, we need him alive, so don't have too much fun." She paused. "And if you guys could, please leave me a little bit to play with too. Okay?"

A classic bad guy laugh escaped Trance's throat. "Whatever you say Velac." The golden alien then sprinted down the corridor while the Maru's captain could be heard sprinting in the opposite direction. Both had a chilling grin plastered on their faces'.

*********

Harper was still slowly making his way towards the Slipstream core. The going was slow partly because he was taking the safe long backwards route to the core. He was trying to avoid any more run-in's with the "new" freaky crew. But the main reason the going was slow was because of the pain that raced through his tortured body. His back hurt from his collision with the girls, his head hurt from hitting it on the ceiling of the conduit, but mostly, his port was the problem. The small sliver disk was coated in deep rich blood that ran down his neck and onto his bright orange shirt causing it turn a lovely shade of puke reddish orange. With each new heartbeat came a new wave of nausea and dizziness. The skin around the disk was swollen and burning. Just turning his neck caused new levels of pain to course through his body. And due to his wonderful immune system, his port was already becoming infected and was started to cause a rise in his body temperature. "I love my life," he muttered out.

Harper continued to push onwards towards his destination. He had to get the core to shut down the engines. He still didn't know what he would do after that, but he knew that was Step One. Step Twos are highly overrated anyways he thought.

As he neared the core, he felt some stress and worry lift off of his shoulders. He had made it there safely with no more encounters with the body snatchers. He knew for a fact that he would not be able to withstand another run-in with Mistresses Beka and Trance.

Harper walked up to the door control panel and punched in the sequence to open them. The heavy metal door slid open with just a whoosh. Harper made his way into his second home. He always felt safe here. The roar of the engine and the soft vibrations that could be felt through the grated floor made him feel like he was in some sort of womb. Safe and protected from the wicked, cruel outside world. He made his way over to the main engine controls and was about to initiate Step One of his one step plan.

"Whatcha doing Harper?" A voice bellowed out over the hum of the engines.

The tired engineer jumped as his heart began to imitate that of a humming bird's heart. His spiky hair even managed to stand up straighter on end. He knew who the voice belonged to and this knowledge scared him even more. If it was Dylan, Beka, or even Tyr, he would at least have had a slight idea of what they were capable of, both mentally and physically. But this voice belonged to the new scarier gold Trance. Under normal circumstances, he still didn't trust her, but under these circumstances, he was scared shitless of her.

He spun around to face his fear. She stepped out from the shadows of the machines she was hiding behind. She looked different.....scary different.......bad different.

"Trance! Nice to see you here," Harper managed to get out past the lump in his throat. He had no idea how to play this.

Trance walked towards him while keeping her eyes glued on his trembling form. "Nice to see you too Harper." The way she said his name sent shivers up his painful spine. "I'm quite hurt you didn't want to play with Beka and I."

Harper was slowly backing up towards the safety of the closed doors. "Look, I know you're not Trance so you can stop playing this game," he said sounding as confident and as authoritative as possible.

"But I like this game," Trance's voice responded. "It's fun." Trance was matching Harper's retreat step by step.

Harper had made his way to the doors. With his hand behind his back, he felt the wonderful cool smooth surface of the door controls. He silently keyed in the code while keeping an eye on the imposter. "Well, sorry to ruin your fun, but I gotta be going now, bye!" Harper spat out as he turned to run out the newly open doors. But again, he didn't get far as he ran smack into the hard chests of Tyr and Dylan. "Crap," he muttered.

"Just where do you think your going little man?" questioned Stolic as he impersonated Tyr while staring down at the petrified engineer. 

Before Harper could even compose himself to answer, Tyr and Dylan's powerful arms were pushing him back into the Slipstream core room. They kept advancing until Harper backed up into Trance's solid form. Harper was then in a situation he never thought possible. He was surrounded by his friend, but dread was racing through his mind and body.

"Heh-heh, guys, come on, work with me here. How 'bout we just take you back home? Huh? How does that sound? You don't want theses bodies. They're crappy bodies. I mean it. Look at Dylan, he's old. I think I even saw some gray hairs the other week, and look at those bags under his eyes, you don't....um....want......that......?" He slowed down as his three friends closed in on him. Their eyes were filled with such rage and disgust that it was a wonder the stares alone didn't kill Harper. "No, huh?" he whispered before the new round of anguish began.

At first, Harper did try to fight back, but he had to do so without harming his friends' bodies. When at first Trance grasped his upper arms, he used her as support as he jumped up, pushing Dylan and Tyr away with his feet. As he did this, he felt Trance's hands tightening on his arms. Her grip continued to tighten until he could feel his left humerus begin to crumble under her amazingly powerful grasp. He let out a heart wrenching scream of pain as the bone was torn apart under the pressure. At that point it was all over. Tyr and Dylan started to pummel Harper's chest and stomach until they were almost sure all of his ribs were broken. Then they moved onto his face, giving him two black eyes, a bloody nose and a very nice slit lip. As an added bonus, they threw in some random bruises to help fill-in his battered face. Once they got bored with his face, they moved back to his mid-section to re-hash the previous damage. 

With each new punch came a new gasp of pain or plead for help from his friends. Harper knew they were in their bodies somewhere and he needed their help. In fact, his friends were right there with him, fighting their own battles inside themselves. 

The real Dylan was close to tears (that is if he had control over his tear ducts). All he wanted was to stop hitting his poor engineer, to stop hurting him, but he couldn't do a thing. Hell, he couldn't' even stop watching. Even closing his eyes would be bliss right now. But no, he had to see each blow HIS fists laid into Harper's bloodied face. He had to see each grimace of pain that followed every time one of HIS punches landed on one of Harper's battered and broken ribs. And he had to hear every cry of agony and every plead that left Harper's bleeding lips, as he, Dylan Hunt, commander and friend, beat him into unconsciousness.

The same battle was raging within the Nietzschean's mind. As much as he hated to admit it, he did care for the little mudfoot. With every kick that he felt his foot landing and with every rib that he felt breaking under his own clasped hand, a primal scream would escape Tyr's non-corporeal lips. What made it worse was that Tyr could feel the joy that was coming from his host, as could the others. They were linked. Stolic could feel Tyr's pain, but could block it out. Tyr, unfortunately, could not do the same. He felt joy as he broke Harper's nose and he felt all warm and tingling as he saw the boy loosing consciousness. Tyr wished for a second that he could join his friend in the blissful world of nothingness.

All the while, the real Trance was simply crying. She cried when she felt Harper's humerus crumble under her grip and she cried when Harper finally collapsed into her arms. She even cried as Tyr came over and picked the bloody, limp, unconscious form of her friend off the newly stained red floor. She cried the whole time, but not once did a single tear escape her eyes.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Andromeda shook as Beka's hands expertly piloted her out of the slipstream and toward the rendezvous point. Due to Beka's expert piloting, they arrived there earlier than planed. They now had time to kill.

Beka/Velac pushed up the slipstream piloting console and started to look around command. It was quiet. The void of space filtered through the view screen and filled the room. Beka's lungs let out a sigh of air. "Where are those guys. I hope they're not killing the toy," she mumbled to herself.

Then, as if on cue, the command doors hissed open and the silence was broken. In strolled the bodies of Trance, Dylan and Tyr. The large Nietzschean had in his arms the body of the bloody, beaten engineer.

"Took you guys long enough," complained Beka/Velac as she marched up to the group.

"Man that was fun," exclaimed Dylan/Fex with a huge sneer on his face which seemed oddly out of place.

"Where do you what him?" asked the burden-laden Tyr/Nixic.

Seeing that there were no chairs on command, Beka's finger pointed to one of the corners away from any of the computer consoles. "Just throw him there."

The large Nietzschean ambled over to the appointed corner and heaved the body on the ground. The engineer landed with a thud but disturbingly there was no groan or movement to accompany the thud.

Beka's eyes grew concerned as she finally saw the state of her prisoner. "Shit guys. I said NOT to have too much fun with him! Is he even alive?" screamed the voice of a leader. Velac didn't have to lead Beka's body over to the heap of flesh and bones lying in the corner. Beka's mind was already begging to go over to check on her adopted little brother. All Velac had to do was to order her legs not to break in to a sprint. As she neared him, her non-corporal stomach started to churn. If she had control of her digestive system she would have been heaving onto the shinny command floor right now. The closer she got, the more damage she saw on his fragile body. She finally reached him and knelt down next to the broken body.

Beka mentally threw up when she saw the full extent of the beating. His young face was now varying shades of blues and violets with lovely splatters of red. His blond mess of hair was now partially dyed red from his own life giving bodily fluids. But his left arm was the most grotesque wound. The upper arm was now in a figure eight. His bicep was crushed to half it's normal size. Beka was on her fifth round of mental heaves at this point. Thankfully, some might say, she did see Harper's chest rising and falling, but each breath seemed like is was the result of great effort. Both Beka and Velac were happy to see that rise of his chest, but Velac was happy because it meant she could have her fun with their little toy.

The alien leader was about to turn away from the lump on the ground when something caught her interest. It was Harper's bloody, inflamed data port. She turned Beka's body to face the others. "Did you guys do this?" she asked pointing to the port.

All three aliens commanded their bodies to walk over to the corner and to look at the wound in question. Dylan/Fex was the first one to speak up. "No Velac, that was already there when we got to him. I wish it was our work. It looks like it was very painful." A cold grin grew on his face.

"Mmmm..." pondered Beka/Velac. "I wonder if that is why Melak wasn't able to take over this one's body. If he was plugged into the AI when we merged then his mind and body would not have be able to be hijacked."

"Then where is Melak?" asked Trance/Nixic as she looked over the port with interest.

"Who the hell knows and who the hell cares!" spat out Tyr's booming voice. Stolic was getting bored just standing around playing detective. "I wanna have more fun with our toy. Why did he have to be so....mortal?" uncharacteristically whined Tyr's voice.

Beka/Velac looked up at the child-like Nietzschean. "Oh young naive Stolic. That is what nano-bots are for. Nixic, run down to Medical and grab some supplies. I'll show you amateurs how to have some real fun."

*******

Harpers world consisted of two things right now, pain and darkness. The darkness was slowly starting to leave him, but his pain was intensifying. He felt his ribs crack with every breath he struggled to take. He felt the warm blood trickling out of his nose and out of the other cuts on his face. He tasted the metallic fluid that was invading his mouth. He felt pain everywhere, from his throbbing arm to his little toe.

As his thoughts were returning to him, he remembered what happened...actually who happened. He still could see Tyr's grinning face as Tyr's large fist made contact with his face. He could still hear Dylan's laugh after they broke another one of his ribs. And he could still feel Trance's warm breath on the back of his neck as she restrained him for the duration of the beating. As he felt the pain surge though his broken body, he remembered that his friends, his family, had done this to him. The few people he had actually let into his world and had trusted. Deep down Harper knew that the aliens were controlling his friends, but their betrayal still hurt more than the physical pain.

"Harper...wakey wakey," a familiar female's voice filled his ears. Hope rose in Harper's heart. He loved that voice. Whenever he was coming back to the world of the living he wanted to hear that voice. That was Beka's voice.

"Come on toy. Wake up. Mommy wants to play," the voice teased.

Dread replaced the hope in his heart. This does not sound good. Maybe I should just play dead, he thought. His thoughts were then interrupted by a blow to his face.

"Come on! Wake up you miserable mudfoot!" The voice then paused. Beka's voice started up again but this time it sounded distant, like she had turned her head. "Nixic, inject him with some more nano-bots."

Harper felt the cold point of the syringe press against the uninjured side of his neck. It's always a bad sign when the bad guys heal you, thought Harper. He learned this through his years on Earth and his many encounters with the Nietzscheans there.

Play dead, play dead, he repeated to himself. That plan was ruined when excruciating pain shot through his body originating from pressure placed on his wounded arm. 

"Agghhh!!!" A scream escaped his dry throat as his aching body leapt to a sitting position. His world spun as his eyes adjusted to the new light and movement. Slowly a familiar face came into view. He could make out the blond hair and the strong cheeks. Beka. Usually he wanted to see this face, but today it was the last face in the world he wanted to wake up to.

"Thanks for joining us Harper," said Beka's voice. The words were dripping with sarcasm.

"He-he, no prob...um...you wouldn't be interested in letting us all go, would you?" Harper struggled to get the sentence out of his dry, sore throat. 

Beka came closer to his face. Harper felt trapped. On both sides of him were walls and in front of him was a very ruthless looking Beka who was backed up by three equally ruthless looking friends.

"No, sorry. We like these bodies, this ship and....you," she whispered as she caressed his cheek. "But you see, there's a problem. They," she pointed to the others behind her, "got to have their fun, but 'cause I was flying this ship I missed out. And I'm in some serious need of some fun." She ended by running her hand through Harper's bloody hair.

Harper's response was a hard swallow hoping to push down the rising sense of dread. He'd try to run if only he thought he could get up without passing out. This did not seem like a possibility seeing that his world was still a spinning and blurry mess.

Beka's voice continued as she stroked his bruised cheek, "Now, now, don't worry. I'm much gentler. I won't hurt you like these barbarians did."

A growl could be heard originating from Dylan's throat.

"No offence," added Beka/Velac as she looked over her shoulder at the others. She turned back to face Harper. Beka's face was touching Harper's as she caressed up against him. "I'm more into enlightenment. I think you really need to know what Beka thinks of you." Beka's hand reached forward to wipe away some of the blood on Harper's forehead. She continued, "Not what she tells you or what she leads you to believe, but what she really thinks of you. You see, I know all that she knows and feels. I know just what she thinks of her little pet mudfoot. But I really think it's best that you hear it from her mouth and her mind. Let me get her for you." Beka/Velac stopped talking. She took her hand way from Harper's trembling face as her eyes rolled back into her head. 

Inside of Beka's mind, Velac was calling for Beka. But Beka knew all. She knew what Velac was planning, she knew how it would devastate Harper and she knew that she had to fight Velac for Harper's sake and the sake of their friendship. 

Velac was finally able to grab onto Beka's metal self and tried to control her through pain. Beka's mind felt like it was on fire. For Harper, she thought as she withstood the agony. The more she fought it, the more intense the burning sensation got until it was unbearable. And since she was locked in her own mind, she couldn't pass out. Wave after wave of pain flooded through her mind. She just couldn't fight it anymore. As she started to let Velac call up her consciousness, the pain diminished and light filled her previous dark existence. She found that her voice worked again.

"H-H-Harper," Beka sputtered to get out.

Even thought the voice was the same, the tone and energy Beka's body now emitted made it clear that the real Beka was speaking.

"B-Beka?" croaked Harper with a hint of hope and relief in his voice.

"It is me Harper. Listen, don't believe......AAGGHHHH!!' screamed Beka in pain as she arched backwards. She was trying to warn him, but Velac was in control of what Beka said here and helping Harper was not in the script. Again, after waves of pain, Beka finally gave into Velac.

Beka straightened up and looked into Harper's sparkling blue eyes. The same eyes that filled her life with laughter and joy. The same eyes that she was about to fill with tears. Hesitantly, she began to speak.

"Seamus Zealanzy Harper, my little pet mudfoot. My cheap labor....my slave." Beka paused. She couldn't do it. She could already see the hurt in Harper's eyes. But Velac sent more agony through Beka's mind and she continued out of weakness. "Do you know how many times I've been tempted to throw you out of the Maru's airlock? How many times I wanted to smack that constant gibbering mouth of yours off your pathetic face? Everyday since I brought you onboard! Which I only did due to a misplaced sense of pity." Beka swallowed hard. She could hear Harper's heart breaking. His eyes were slowly starting to make their way to the floor. Beka did as Velac commanded. She grabbed his chin and yanked his face upward. "LOOK AT ME BOY!!" she screamed. She tighten her clasp on his chin until he jerked away in pain, but his dejected eyes remained locked onto hers. 

"Do you know why I kept you around? Do you!? So I could feel superior over someone. So I could feel empowered every time I had to rescue your pathetic runt ass out of trouble. You are the best ego trip in the known universe Seamus. Hell, an ameba looks more competent compared to you." Harper's eyes dropped again. This time his face was meet with a hard slap across his already stinging cheeks. "LOOK AT ME BOY!! See you can't even follow a simple instruction. How pathetic! When I look at you all I see is a ego whore. A skinny, weak, incompetent, runt of a ego whore!" Beka screamed as she quickly pushed herself off of the floor. She started to kick at Harper's dejected form. "A SKINNY" ...kick... "WEAK" ...kick... "INCOMPETENT"... kick... "RUNT"... kick... "OF A EGO WHORE!!!"... big strong kick . 

Harper was curled up into a fetal position, writhing from the pains of both the kicks and of the words. Tears were welling up behind his eyes but he refused to let them fall. Beka had hit on all of his fears. He hoped it was just the alien talking, but he wasn't sure. Maybe Beka really did feel that way. Maybe the alien just embellished a little. Maybe he was just a useless ego whore. The tears continued to build up.

Beka stared down at the curled up form. Her heart was breaking too. She should have been stronger, should have fought more. But she didn't and she failed Harper. She failed their friendship. She failed. 

Velac started to push Beka's mind back into her deep consciousness. Beka didn't fight this time. She went back willingly. She didn't deserve anything. Not a body, not a mind and not a friend like Harper. She welcomed the darkness of her own mind.

Velac turned Beka to face her comrades. Their faces were quite a site. Jaws on the floor, eyes wide open. Silence. 

Dylan's hands broke that silence with a round of applause. "Wow, that was....amazing." 

Beka/Velac took a little bow as the tears in Harper's eyes finally broke through and ran down his face. Tears were now mixing with blood.

"Thank you, thank you" joked Beka/Velac. The tone and energy of the body showed no sign of the real Beka. She was deep inside crying non-existent tears. "See young ones, THAT is how you have fun. It's all in....."

"BEEP...BEEP" Andromeda's computers interrupted Velac's speech.

"Report Stolic," demanded Beka/Velac as she regained her professional composure.

Tyr/Stolic was the closest to the beeping console. He punched in a few commands and looked back up. His strong angled face was filled with a smug smile. "They're here," he chimed.

All eyes went to the view screen as Tyr/Stolic punched up the image.

Harper's wet eyes managed to get a glimpse of the screen. What he saw filled his insides with more dread. He was actually quite surprised he could fit more dread in himself.

The view screen was filled with the image of three ships. The ships the aliens were meeting up with. Each ship was twice the size of Andromeda with what looked like ten times the amount of fire power. And heading towards Andromeda was a rather large transport pod. 

Beka broke the awe-inspired silence. "Grab him and lets go meet our allies. We don't want to keep them waiting." She marched off towards the command doors. Tyr and Dylan approached Harper's corner from hell. They each grabbed an arm and yanked him upright. Tyr/Stolic was lucky enough to get Harper's bad arm and was having fun playing with it. "Gee, does this hurt" Tyr/Stolic teased as he squeezed the malformed arm repeatedly.

"Aggghh...no," grunted Harper. But he wasn't completely lying. The nano-bots were working. He was feeling a bit better. He only felt like he was worked over by 20 Nietzscheans instead of 40. My day is finally getting better, he thought as the bodies of Dylan and Tyr dragged him off to meet his new owners.

TBC 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

By the time the group had reached the hanger bay that held the transport pod, Tyr/Stolic had gotten rather bored of playing with Harper's mangled arm. The engineer was quite happy that Stolic seemed to lack Tyr's eternal patience. Even with his blood saturated with nano-bots, his arm was still useless and painful. On the bright side, breathing was easier and he could now be dragged with out getting dizzy.

The heart in Harper's chest started to pounding faster as the doors to the hanger bay hissed open. Inch by inch he caught his first glimpse of the allies he had only heard about. The transport pod they came in was huge. There was only a few feet of free space around every inch on the sleek, black ship. The pilot must have been an expert to have gotten it in the bay without hitting the walls or ceiling.

Filtering out of the enormous ship were the allies. Harper was too far away from them to tell what species they were. All he knew is that they were humanoid and there were a lot of them. The strong hands griping Harper's arms dragged and pushed him into the hanger bay and towards his new owners.

A group of ten of the allies were marching towards the invaded crew of the Andromeda. As the groups descended on one another, Harper's racing heart stopped dead in his trembling chest. All color drew from his already pale face. He saw what species the allies were and he was not happy.

Nietzscheans.

Beka's form stepped forward into the gap that separated the two groups. She said nothing as she stared down the group of imposing Nietzscheans. 

From the collection of all rather large Nietzscheans, the largest male stepped forward meeting Beka in no-man's-land. He was about the size of Tyr with almost more muscles, if that was possible. His complexion was that of someone who spend their whole life in space away from any sun-light. His short cropped hair was platinum blonde, giving his whole body a unified look. The only features that stood out were his striking blue-green eyes. They were the shade of cold ice water and like ice water, they sent shivers down Harper's spine.

Those callused eyes slowly scanned at Beka's body from head to toe. "Velac, I assume," the harsh, hallow voice echoed through the hanger bay. "Galaver Merilis, out of Athenia by Mercurous, of the Pytho pride."

Harper's stopped heart fell out of his chest and splattered on the featureless hanger bay floors. The Pytho pride. His mind swirled with memories that had long been tucked way into the recesses of his mind. Memories of one year of his life when the Pytho pride had Earth as their play thing.......

****FLASH-BACK****

Earth. Smog filled, dirty, depressing, hell-hole Earth. The home of the human species, once free, now under Drago-Kazov control. Except for one year. One year when a more fearsome nomadic pride of Nietzscheans decided they wanted Earth for a little while. That pride was the Pytho pride. And that year was Seamus Zealanzy Harper's 16th year of painful existence.

Dirty, tattered boots sank into the inch thick layer of debris that coated all surfaces in Boston. The boot were moving quickly through the sludge as nightfall was getting closer by the second. This year, nightfall meant that the Pythos came out to play.

The young Harper normally had no intention of every being this far away from the safety of his home during this time of day. Normally he was already tucked away into the safety of his own little drainage pipe, cuddled up amongst the slime and dirt, trying to stay warm. But today, tonight, he was not there, he was not safe. Instead he was sprinting wildly through the growingly dark alleys, gasping for air as he pumped his thin weak legs as fast as they could go. He was in this situation because of family. 

Susie, his youngest cousin was killed yesterday by the Pythos after they raped her and beat her to a bloody pulp. Now the last remaining cousins, he and Brendan, had to go bury their sweet innocent Susie. There was one place in Boston to bury family and friends. That was in the park. The trees were long gone and the playground equipment was long since pulverized, but the dirt and ground were still there. Also there were bodies buried on top of bodies, on top of bodies. That is why Harper and Brendan were out at this late hour, digging and burying. Harper could still see dirt slowly covering up Susie's gentle eyes as she stared up from her final resting place. 

By the time the boys had finished, it was later than they thought and wanted. Brendan raced off in the opposite direction, hoping to get home to his ailing mother in time. While Harper raced off hoping to reach is empty, lonely pipe. His parents were killed four years ago and since then he was on his own. Brendan had helped him out a bit, but Harper hated being a hindrance to the older cousin. So most of the time Harper hanged out with one of the many groups of roaming orphaned teens. That or he kept to himself, tinkering away in his pipe while dreaming of the stars.

The hazy sun-light sky was getting darker and darker as the mother star dipped below the horizon. Harper commanded his aching, numb legs to move faster. He was only a block away from the entrance to the sewer system and to safety. The young man hurdled over unwanted corpses and debris, desperately trying to reach his home. Finally, when he thought his legs were about to give out under him, he saw the entrance. Yes! Take that you ubers, thought a joyous Harper.

That joy came tumbling to the ground along with Harper as he crashed into the layers of sludge. He felt fire course up his right leg and he felt his pants getting warmer and wetter around the thigh. He reached down and with a hiss felt the warm liquid. Drawing his hand back up to his eyes he saw dark red mixed into the normal grim that coated every inch of his skin. He had been shot. Before he could make a move he heard a voice from overhead.

"Well, well. Look at what we have here boys," a course hard voice bellowed out.

The fallen form slowly pushed himself over to face his attackers. What Harper saw still haunts his nightmares. Above him stood five very large and intimidating Pythos who were looking at Harper like he was a bunny and they were a pack of ravenous wolves. 

"Looks like we have a kludge who doesn't know how to tell time. Stupid kludges." The towering speaking Nietzschean knelt down to face the trembling kludge. He thwapped Harper's cold nose. "Don't you know how to hide kludge?" The others laughed a cold heartless laugh that chilled Harper to the bone. Luckily, the Nietzscheans' bad sense of humor left Harper with just the opening he was hoping for.

Harper instantaneously kicked the legs out from under the knelt down Pytho. He jumped on top of the now prone Nietzschean and with one swift punch to his face, forced the Pytho's septum up into his brain, killing him instantly. Within a nano-second, Harper was up on his wounded leg tackling one of the other Pythos. He quickly grasped his trusty knife from his boot and impaled it into the Pytho's temple. Two down. But the third never came. Before Harper could blink an eye, he felt a powerful blow to his unprotected back. That blow was quickly followed by another to his head, then to his chest, and so forth and so on. Eventually, sweet blissful unconsciousness claimed him.

Surges of energy passed through his body filling each synapse with pain. This is what the young Harper woke up to...agony. Harper reflexively jumped forward upon waking but found that it was not possible. He was strapped to a type of adjustable metal table. He felt the electrodes attached at his temples as more waves of energy coursed through him. 

Harper really didn't expect this. He was expecting death, sweet peaceful, painless death. Why did the Pytho's want him alive? Why not just kill him like they did to poor Susie. Why was life so unfair?

He never did get the answer to those questions but he did get more pain. From what he could speculate, he was in some sort of sick recreation center for the Pythos. He was in a small room with one door. Lining the walls were torture instruments of every kind. In the middle of the room laid Harper strapped to the table. He could hear screams coming from both of the rooms next to him, and everyday he would have up to ten Pythos come and visit him. They would do whatever they felt like doing to him. The worse the day they had, the worse the day Harper had. It turned out that Harper was a favorite for many and he saw many repeat customers. Maybe it was his smart-aleck remarks that kept them coming back. He really did need to learn to shut up.

This daily torture went on for weeks, and then months. They kept him alive with nano-bots and fed him through tubes. Not once did they let him off of the table. Harper turned 17 on that table. For his birthday, the Pythos gave him two thousands deep small cuts all over his body. He would have rather had a puppy. 

Finally, one day months later, Harper's ears were filled with the sound of gun fire echoing through the halls of the recreation center. Apparently the Dragos finally got sick of the Pythos and were kicking them off of Earth. The Pythos were ruthless and quite a force to be reckoned with, but their nature was nomadic. They were not about to put up a fight for Earth, they had their year of fun and that was all they wanted. Off to another planet they went.

The Drago-Kazov had no use for the half-dead recreation toys. They simply threw all the beaten skeleton-like kludges out into the street as they reclaimed the building. Harper landed on top of another victim of the Pythos with a thud when the Dragos threw him out. He slowly breathed in the relatively fresh air of Boston. He was free and alive. Well barely. Harper commanded his body to crawl out of the heap of writhing bodies and toward safety. His limbs were atrophied from being restrained for so long. Slowly and painfully he crawled and dragged himself to Brendan's old home, hoping that his last family member had not moved over the past year.

After what seemed like hours of drudgery, Harper finally spotted Brendan's building. It was a ruin down collapsing old apartment building. The seventeen year old dragged his broken body through the doorway and up the steps to his cousin door. A shaky, bloody, pale hand reached out and weakly knocked on the filthy door. The sound of his fist on the wood was the last thing Harper heard before blackness enveloped him.

Brendan heard the soft knock on his door. He quickly grabbed his knife from the counter and slowly opened the creaking door. Brendan peaked out, ready to attack whoever was there, but to his surprise, the hallway was empty. His tense body relax and he opened the door wider as the still form on the ground caught his eye. It was a body. Bending down he rolled over the filthy, stinking, poor soul. A gasp escaped his mouth when he saw the face that belonged to the pathetic body. His last living family member, Seamus.

About a year ago, Shay had disappeared and was eventually thought for dead. After Brendan's mom finally died, he believed he was all alone in this world. Now that body on his door stoop changed that belief. Brendan took another look at his cousin. He could hardly believe what he saw. Harper was basically just a skeleton with flesh. New and old bruises filled every inch of his skin, while new and old cuts overlaid the bruised creating an interesting patchwork. Harpers face was thin and hollow, his eyes were sunken deep into his face. His cheeks were also so sunken that if a smile could have filled that face his trademark dimples wouldn't have been able to show up. Dried and fresh blood was covering his dirty, tattered clothes. His normally short blond spiky hair was now shoulder length and dyed red from the year of blood flowing through it. The stench coming off of Harper was that of death, but Brendan could just barely make out the rise and fall of air filling Harper's lungs. Even though he looked dead and looked like he would want to be dead, Harper was alive.

Gently Brendan picked up his cousin. His stomach turned when he felt how light Harper had become. He couldn't have been more that 50 pounds. Brendan carried the sack of bones into his apartment, laid him down on the soft makeshift bed and began nursing his last family member back to health.

From that day on, Harper never spoke one word of his 16th year on Earth. He had pushed all the memories and horrors back into his mind where they stayed buried under a thick blanket of denial. And they stayed there until that fateful day on Andromeda when the Pythos came back into Harper's life.

*******

Harper shook the nightmarish memories out of his head. He came back to the present to find the cold harsh eyes of Galaver staring deep into his terror filled eyes.

Beka's commanding voice broke through the stare. "We brought you a gift to strengthen our relationship. Fex. Stolic," she ordered.

Dylan's and Tyr's powerful hands pushed Harper toward his nightmare.

"What do we have here?" spoke the cold dark voice.

"A Earth kludge for your pride. One of our boarding team was lost and this....mudfoot was not take over. My people give him to you as a gesture of cooperation. A free slave to go with your new ship," Beka/Velac stated diplomatically.

Harper felt himself get pushed toward the large Pytho as realization of what Velac said struck him. "Your new ship." No, it can't be, Harper thought with dread. Andromeda now belonged to the Pytho pride.

Galaver caught the small form that was pushed toward him. He grabbed Harper's arm and his bad one at that. Harper's pain from the arm was now insignificant. The Pythos had control of Andromeda and his friends were lost within their own bodies. Not for the first time in his life, Harper wished for death.

Galaver's rough hands caught Harper's chin as he tilted up the beaten face of the engineer. He was examining the goods. "Not bad. A little beaten up, but not bad." The words were void of any emotion.

Strongly against Beka's will, Velac spoke up. "He's also an engineering genius. As for the wounds, he's already been injected with nano-bots so he should heal quickly."

"Good, good. You've done well. I"m glad to see your species is cooperating." Galaver's head was raised high as he spoke. Turning his proud head behind him, he gave commands to the lower Pythos. "Apoc, Zeck, take our first slave here to the holding cell." He turned back to face Beka. "I do assume this magnificent ship has a holding area."

"Of course, Deck 15. Nixic will show you the way."

"Follow me," Trance/Nixic said as she lead the two muscle bound Pythos and the small, disheartened Harper out of the bay. 

Harper could just make out the next part of Velac's and Galaver's conversation.

"How many of your pride did you bring to colonize this ship?" asked Beka's voice.

"About 3,000. They are all docking in the other hanger bays as we speak."

Inside of Dylan's, Tyr's, Beka's, Trance's and especially Harper's mind the exact same word filled their thoughts.

SHIT.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Here's the next part. But first a message from our sponsors.

Just wanted to thank you guys for the reviews. So thanks Dawn, Marcela, Bolo, and Wooly (your comment made my day) THANKS ALL!!

Now onto the show....

PART TWO

"Correction, standing next to you [Trance], Beka, Rev, Rommie, Dylan....err, well anyways, then I'm one of the good guys, but I didn't survive twenty years on that hellhole we lovingly call Earth by being Santa's Little Helper. I survived by being the nastiest piece of work that ever clubbed someone over the head in the back alley over a hunk of cheese."

-----Seamus Zealanzy Harper

Chapter 7

Andromeda's corridor was quiet save for the four sets of stomping boots on the hard metal floors. The boots belonged to the two lower Pythos, Apoc and Zeck, the abducted body of Trance Gemini and the Earth kludge Seamus Harper. Trance was in front of the group leading them to V deck. Following her were the stereotypical thugs. Both had muscles larger than their brains and their low brows dominated their faces. You could see the ancient Earth Neanderthals' traits still in their so called superior DNA.

In-between the two towers of bulk walked Harper. Apoc had a nice strong grip on his right arm, while his non-related twin had the same grasp on his still mangled and useless left arm. Luckily for Harper, the nano-bots Trance injected him with earlier were doing their job. His ribs only hurt a bit and all the other bruises and cuts were now only superficial. All of the internal bleeding from the punches and kicks had been fixed and even his fever from the infection in his data port had broken. Trance/Nixic had been nice enough to mix in some antibiotics with the nano-bots. Nice bad guys. Unfortunately, two major injuries still remained. His left arm, if Zeck were to let go of it, would fall uselessly to his side. Pain was still radiating from it, but not as intense as before. The other major problem was his dataport. Still swollen, still quite painful, still unusable. The nano-bots were seemingly having no effect on it at all.

Harper's mind focused on the silent corridor instead of the pain. Soon, he thought, the corridors he now called home, would be home to thousands of Pythos. Thousand of treacherous Pythos' feet would be strolling these halls. Voice of the horrible ubers would fill Andromeda's lovely walkways....and rooms....and even her...HIS engine room. NO! screamed Harper's mind. I can't let it. I won't let it. After he survived the Pytho's recreation center, he promised himself that he would never be in Pytho control again and that any Pytho he saw would leave this world with Harper's grinning face staring over their bleeding, broken body. He promised. The blood in his veins started to boil, his mind racing with memories from years ago mixing with the memories from the past 24 hours. When his mind reached his current situation, his blood froze.

Who was he kidding. Three thousand Pythos were boarding Andromeda. Three thousand! And he was being dragged off to V deck by two Pythos twice his size who were being lead by his golden goddess. To top it all off, his friends were prisoners in their own minds and unable to help. Or were they? They had beat him and tortured him, but were they truly helpless? Harper knew that he annoyed them and that maybe, sometimes, they only kept him around for his technical merit, but did he annoy them that much. Enough for them not to fight while being forced to hurt him? Enough for Beka to say those things to him? How much did they truly despise him?

Harper internally shook his head, rattling the clouds of doubt that constantly overcast his thoughts. Not now. It didn't matter either way, if they hated him or not. Either way they would not or could not help him. It was up to him to save himself and his friends...even if they did hate him. No one deserved to be left with the Pythos, well except maybe the Drago-Kazov.

Pain shooting though his arm brought his thoughts back to the real world. The real world where Zeck had just squeezed his poor arm as he shoved the smaller man forward. The boiling blood that had been placated earlier with fear was getting hot again. Familiar anger rose within Harper's psyche. Anger that had not been fully used or felt since that day Beka rescued him from Earth. Every once it a blue moon, the rage would peek it's ugly head, but never to the magnitude that filled Harper's mind and body everyday on Earth. He had felt a twinge of it with Gerentex and with Satrina, but it wasn't the same desperate, empty stomach, survival-of-the-fittest rage that filled his thoughts every second he survived on that hellhole. The rage had been placated because Harper had always felt safe with Beka and the others. He always knew, no matter how much he annoyed them or how much they hated him, they would always have his back. He hadn't needed to call up that part of him since he meet that lovely redhead-now blonde captain. But now it was different. Now no one had his back, no one could help him but himself. 

Deep in the recesses of the spunky kluge's mind there is a locked door. A door which has years of dust settling on it's large strong lock. A lock that Harper's non-corporeal hand was now fiddling with. A lock and a door that was now creaking open. Behind that door, inside that dark cold harsh room, laid pure, unsaturated survival.

The door was now wide open and Seamus Zealanzy Harper of Earth was finally let loose.

Apoc's grip loosened for a second and that was all Harper needed. Ripping his good right arm from Apoc's loose grip, Harper quickly took aim at Zeck's large nose. With the palm of this hand, the engineer plunged Zeck's septum straight up into his rarely used brain. The soft sweet sound of cartilage on gray matter brought back sweet memories for Harper. He loved that move.

Before Apoc could even register that the weak injured inferior kludge had just killed his fellow Pytho, Harper had laid a strong solid kick to his family jewels. Apoc violently hunched over in pain. With the Pytho's head now at Harper's level, the weak human took his only useful arm and put Zeck into a headlock. With his hand securely griping Apoc's chiseled chin, Harper twisted his arm. Snaps and cracks filled the corridor as Apoc's head twist like a cap on a Neubayern Weisbrau bottle. A sick thud followed as the large body hit the ground.

*********

In the dark recesses of her mind, Trance sat and thought. The number three thousand kept repeating it's self. The word crap also kept repeating it's self.

Inside her mind she sat, useless and helpless. She watched her body lead poor Harper into a life of slavery. Poor Harper. Her thoughts paused on that phrase. He had been through a nightmare today and she had a good feeling that it was only just beginning.

Her golden heart broke realizing there was nothing she could do for him...or herself...or for the others. The future was so hazy and uncertain right now she couldn't even win a hand of Yeshi-dono. That thought alone was scaring her. Usually she could see or figure something out, but this was like being blindfolded. She hated not knowing what would happen, or even what could happen. It was so...so...mortal. She could only figure that it had to be Nixic's presence that was blocking the possible futures from her. It had to be.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sound behind her of bones breaking. HARPER! She thought as worry and dread filled her mind. Nixic turned her body around to see Harper grabbing a gun off of Apoc's dead body which was laying next to Zeck's corpse. Both bodies were quite a site. Apoc's head was now on backwards and dark red blood and gray matter were oozing out of the area that used to hold Zeck's nose.

Nixic focused Trance's eyes off of the grotesque forms on the ground and up at the barrel of the gun that Harper was pointing at her. His left arm hung limply at his side. Trance had done that to him.

Nixic commanded Trance's voice to speak. "Damn Harper," her voice was filled with admiration. "Trance didn't know you had that in you. Impressive. Futile, but impressive." Nixic focused on the gun that was pointed at her. "You know that thing is useless against Trance. Plus, you hurt me, you hurt your golden goddess."

Harper's cold and empty eyes just stared at Trance. He spoke up in an equally cold and empty voice, "Silly alien, tricks are for kids."

He fired.

A wave of fire burned through her leg as the bullet from the gauss gun made contact. Pain shot up through her whole body, but there was something else...something good. Nixic was feeling the pain too and is was causing him, her, it to loosen it's grip on Trance's mind and body. Trance jumped at this opportunity. She fought past Nixic's powerful mind and grabbed hold of her voice.

"H-H-Harper! It's me, Trance!" She yelled out feeling simple pleasure at the act of using her own voice.

The mysterious golden alien had crashed onto the corridor floor after taking the shot to her leg. The second Harper heard the real voice of his golden goddess he raced over to her side.

"Trance!!" he yelled in joy as he held her dreadlock filled head with his good arm. The left arm hadn't moved an inch from before.

Trance's eyes locked on that arm, that mangled arm. "I"m sorry Harper," she said nodding towards the limb.

"No prob babe. I've had worse."

"AAAGGGGHHHHH...."screamed Trance. The pain from the shot was wearing off and Nixic was starting to regain control. Trance pushed Nixic back down.

For a split second, Harper could see the minds switch from Trance to Nixic back to Trance. A wave of energy had flowed across the surface of her eyes in-between transitions. 

"Trance, don't leave me," he begged. Fresh tears were coming to his tired eyes.

"H-Have to...can't keep Nixic at bay.... pain... makes... them... weakkkkkaaaagggghhh... run.... harper.... run." Silence. Trances eyes rolled back into her head as the waves of energy returned to dance across her retinas. Nixic was returning.

With one swift movement, Harper placed Trance's head down, grabbed all the guns off of all the bodies, alive and dead, and ran for his life.

A second later, Trace's voice could be heard reverberating through the empty corridor as Harper fled. "DAMN IT!"

The pumping of his sore legs and the air struggling to fill his lungs reminded him of Earth and his past. A past which he had fought to forget, deny or repress. Instincts from that past were resurfacing along with the memories. Instincts that his friends didn't know were in him, would not want to know were in him and would be repulsed by. Instincts that Harper, of Earth, were about to release on the Pytho pride.

TBC.


	8. Chapter 8

Just wanted to give a quick thank you to all my reviewers.

THANK YOU!

Now, onto the next part.

Chapter 8

The reincarnated engineer sprinted down the temporally empty corridors while his mind was raced as fast as his legs. With each quick step he took, a new plan was born in his brilliant mind. With the following step, that plan was quickly shot down. Run away-no, my friends...Get Rommie back up and working-no, don't have the time...Get the AI back up-no, again, no time...Gas the whole ship-no, would hurt the others. Plans came up, plans shot down, again and again till finally only one plan was left standing. Kill them all and get his friends back. The how in the plan was still to be figured out. Now with each rushed step the how was slowly being answered. Bombs, weapons, more bombs, more weapons, and one special bomb. The exhausted engineer now knew where his weak shaking legs had to take him... Machine Shop 17. Everything he needed was there, well almost everything.

Harper rounded the last corner to his destination. He saw the doors to the shop just a few yards away. A memory flashed through his tired mind. Earth, that fateful night, the Pytho's, that shot. He could even hear the chilling voice, "Well, well. Look what we have here boys." A cold wave of pure fear crawled up his spine. Focus Seamus, he commanded his mind. Mentally he pushed back the memories, the image of the unreachable sewer opening slowly morphed back into the door for the machine shop. He was fully back in the present by the time he heard the hiss of the door opening. 

Quickly, he punched codes into the control panel to secure the doors. Not even Andromeda herself could access this room right now. A sigh escaped his lips as he leaned his back up against the cold closed doors. Safety...temporary safety, but he would take anything right now. With each deep breath he took, the past 26 hours filtered through his system. As the minutes pasted, his body's normal needs made themselves known. He raced off to the bathroom. A few minutes later he came out and grabbed a Sparky and 2 power bars from his secret stash. A minute later all three items were well on their way to his stomach. Then the last physical need was making it's self known. Sleep. His eyelids felt like a large group of Tyrs were pulling them shut. He was now seriously regretting that the day before all this happened he had skipped sleep to start work on the sensors. Regrettably, the immediate future held no time for a nap power, let alone a long rest. 

Sparkies were strong, but not strong enough to keep him up till all the Pytho's were good and dead, he had his friends back, and Andromeda was back on-line. One disturbing option kept popping up in Harper's mind. He paced the cluttered room while contemplating his dilemma. His one option would keep him up, but it also had some serious drawbacks. Possibly deadly drawbacks. His one options was to take a strong Earth drug called Buzz.

His fatigued mind remembered the drug. One dose of Buzz would keep a person going for four days without sleep or food. It wasn't addictive and the user's thoughts were extra clear and extra paranoid. The latter was a very good thing to be during a Magog or Drago-Kazov raid, which was when the drug was used the most. A person could take Buzz and be able to run, hide and fight for 4 days non-stop. No Magog would kill them when they passed out from exhaustion because they never passed out. This was the reason why Harper had taken it twice before. Unfortunately Buzz had two major drawbacks which caused many people not to take it. First, it was rare and thus expensive. Harper had managed to acquire a small supply through selling his body to a human brothel for a month. The thought of that month brought back more memories that he never wanted to revisit again. The second reason most sane people never used Buzz was because of what happened when one came off of the powerful drug. Convulsions, vomiting, massive delusions and paranoia, high fevers, possible heart attack or stroke, the list went on and on. For 24 hours the user would experience these horrors. After that time, sleep, sweet sleep. When you did finally wake up, hours to days later, you would feel like you got hit by a large starship. That was if you woke up at all. Comas and death were not uncommon in Buzz users. The longer you were on it, the more doses you took, the more likely those two outcomes were. 

Harper reluctantly remembered the two time he used it. Once, for a Drago raid when he was a teen in order to protect a younger very sick cousin. Seamus made sure any Drago that came near their hideout during the three day raid died. Unfortunately his cousin also died on the last night of the raid from the illness. The irony was not lost on young Seamus. The second time was a Magog raid a year later when he was living alone. That time he ran and hid during the four day raid. Both times, at the end of the fourth day, the young man went off to a remote ventilation shaft or sewer pipe. He crawled into the cramped space and withstood the withdrawal alone. His mind remembered the agony of those 24 hour periods and he really didn't want to go through it again. He blinked and as his eyelids would not reopen willingly, he had his answer. 

Hesitantly, he walked over to one of the panels on the far wall. He pulled the metal panel off to reveal a small dirty leather bag. His past, his life. A shaky right hand reached in and took the bag from it's resting place. Harper made his way over to his bed, placed the guns he had taken from Pytho's and Trance on the bed and sat down. As soon as his body hit the soft mattress, a wave of exhaustion swept over his aching body. Unwillingly, he opened the bag releasing his past. 

Sticking out most prominently was his tin whistle he had just recently gotten back from Brendan....Brendan. Being both physically and emotionally exhausted made Harper extra vulnerable to his normally concealed emotions. Tears formed behind his eyes as he remembered his last family member and how he had abandoned him, left him for dead. Harper pushed the whistle and the memories aside. Looking back in the bag, he saw that gadgets mostly filled the pouch. A communication device he had made for one of their little stupid play raids on the Dragos' compounds, one of the first shrillers he had made, and a few other random inventions. He took the shriller out of the bag and placed it on the bed. Next to the communication device laid his knife. The knife he used to kill countless attacking Dragos and a few Magog. You could attack Dragos, but Magog you ran from. That knife was also used to kill Siobhan and Declan. He was the unlucky one elected to kill his cousins because he was the only family member that was well enough to do it. The others were either injured badly in the raid or were very ill and bed ridden. He used that knife to slit their throats. Memories of the blood dripping off the knife filled his mind. Again, he pushed down the memories. Grabbing the knife by the cold hard handle, he placed it on the bed next to the shriller. Underneath the knife was a small silver locket. A family heirloom. It had been passed down from his Great-Great-Great Grandmother. His mom gave it to him after the last of his siblings had died. She wanted to make sure it got passed on and by giving it to her last surviving child she felt like it would protect him, keep him alive, so he could pass it on. He pushed the small precious memory aside. Finally, there, at the bottom of the bag was what he was searching for. A small plastic bag that held three small green pills. Buzz. 

Harper managed to open the plastic bag with his one good hand and dumped the contents on the bed. Hesitantly he picked up one of the powerful pills. He examined the pill with reluctant eyes. "For the others," he whispered as he placed the pill under his tongue. As it dissolved, a tingling sensation flowed through his tongue and then through his body. A minute later, his eyelids were light, his mind was sharp, and his hands were twitchy. It was working. He placed the two remaining pills back in the bag and shoved it in one of his pant's pockets.

The now re-energized Harper jumped up from his bed, put the bag back in the wall, put the panel back on the wall and skipped over to his work table. Bombs, weapons and bombs. The image of Pythos blowing up filled Harper's mind as a smile filled his face. Sitting down on his stool, a realization hit him. How was he going to build anything with one working arm? Gently, his right hand lifted his left hanging arm and placed it on the table. He commanded his arm to move, which it didn't. Then he tried for a smaller goal and ordered his fingers to move, which they did. He didn't have full range of motion but he could work with it. Quickly he got to building. His good hand flew over bits of machinery, wires and circuit boards while his bad hand mostly held objects in place. Two hours later the cluttered table was clear, but surrounding Harper were bombs of every shape and size, as well as a few other random gadgets.

The genius pushed himself off of his stool and walked over to one of the more cluttered corners. He pushed a few layers of junk and clothes aside to reveal a courier bag, the type you place across a shoulder and chest. He dumped out the contents of the yellow and black bag. The last time he used it was on an away mission a few months back. He never had the time to unpack. What could he say, he was a busy and lazy guy. 

Taking the bag, he headed over to the worktable. Carefully, he placed each bomb and gadget in the it. One special bomb he placed in a side pocket. That one was not finished yet and had a very special purpose. He then went over to his bed and picked up the shriller and the knife. He placed the knife in his boot and placed the chain attached to the shriller around his neck. He winched when the cold metal chain brushed up against his damaged data port. Damn it hurt. He grabbed the guns, stuffing one in his pants, and the other two in his bag. Harper swung the bag across his right shoulder and chest making sure he had quick access with is good arm. With his bomb-laden bag, he marched towards the door. Seamus Harper was now armed, Buzzed and ready to kill. 

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

First big thank you to Iloveharper-he'smine! That review made my day. My ego is now a bit bigger, it's the size of a pea now ;^) so.... THANK YOU!!

Now onto the story....

Warning: This is a very gruesome and carnage filled chapter. You have been warned. 

Chapter 9

The world flew past Harper as he raced down the corridors towards the engine room. Luckily the Pythos felt unthreatened and were taking their sweet time filing into the ship. The corridors were still mostly empty except for the few times Harper had heard voices echoing through the corridors. At each noise he stopped dead in his tracks and quickly changed his route to avoid anyone. Times like this made him extremely happy that he knew the ship like the back of his hand. Finally, gasping for breath, he reached the main doors to the engine room.

The doors slid open to revile a blood covered grated floor. His blood. Quick flashes of Tyr breaking his nose, Dylan cracking a rib, and Trance laughing in his ear consumed Harper's full attention for a second. A rising sense of fear brought him back to the present. The tiny soft hairs on the back of his neck were saluting the waves of paranoia that raged through him. His nervous eyes scanned the empty engine room as his fearful head keep whipping around searching for the unseen enemy - his friends, the Pytho's, the imaginary and real monsters from his childhood nightmares. Soon, reason pushed the paranoia down and his heart slowed to a normal rate. "Calm down, there's no one here," he whispered to himself reassuringly. He gave a last calming glance around the dimly lit room. His eye stopped on the red floor again. More quick flashes. NO! he demanded from his mind. Again, he pushed the living nightmares back, back into the small rusty box in his mind. The box that was getting rather full and restless after today. His mental self was jumping up and down on the lid to get it to close. 

With his composure regained, his eyes left the haunting pool of memories and locked onto the engines. He quickly strode over to it and started working. Within a few minutes he had sabotaged both the impulse and slipstream engines by taking one small necessary component from each. He received a nasty little shock and burn to his good hand when he shut down the impulse engines which were running at the time. He sucked his burned figures briefly before he place the small delicate devices in his bag. The Pythos would get nowhere without those two components. Even Harper couldn't build them from scratch and they were some of the more expensive bits to replace. Harper knew his engines. 

The second reason he came to the engine room now grabbed his attention. Andromeda's AI. He practically skipped over to one of the computer consoles in the room. While he hated coming off Buzz, he loved being on it. It was like having Sparky flowing through his veins. His right hand danced over the console punching up command after command. Finally the hand stopped dancing but still twitched nervously. He had his answer on how bad the AI program was messed up. Luckily it was reparable but it would take time, time he didn't have right now. His head dropped as a deep breath left his lungs. "Damnit Rommie, I could really use you right now." 

The self-pity was rudely interrupted by the sound of the doors hissing open. With all the fear and memories that engulfed him when he entered, he had forgotten to secure the doors. "Shit, great going genius", he hissed to himself before he spun around to see who his visitors were.

It turned out he didn't like his visitors. They were not the twenty hot babes he had wished for, instead they were twenty large, mean Pythos. Mixed expressions crossed their faces. A few were shocked, some had pure rage in their eyes and the rest had that evil grin and blood-lust eyes that Harper had come to know so well.

The shiver of fear that was making it's way up his back meet the ragging anger that was racing down his neck. The anger shoved the fear all the way down to Harper's boots.

"Hiya guys, are you all here for the tour? Well sorry to say, you just missed it, but lucky for you our next one starts in half an hour," he spit out only as Harper could. The words were to occupy the Pythos as he was slowing reaching into his bomb laden bag. "If you would just take a seat, there are some magazines to read, and some brochures to look through." His hand was fingering each bomb, searching for just the right one. He found it. "And our tour guide will be back....shortly?" His speech was cut short by the sound of twenty guns powering up.

"Shut up kludge," the largest, dumbest looking one said. In actuality they all looked the same, big, huge forehead, clouded over eyes.

"What!? But your tour, well I guess I can give you your money back if you're not satisfied," The bomb was now firmly griped in his hand which was still hidden in the bag.

With each word Harper spewed out, you could see the anger rise in the group of Pythos. The head thug stepped forward, his gun never wavering from it's target, Harper's forehead. He activated his communication badge. "Galaver, I think we found what stopped the engines. Did you happen to lose a very talkative and annoying kludge by any chance?"

"What?" came a stoically shocked voice over the comms, if that combinations is at all possible.

If you have ever notice when people talk over communication devices they tend to look up, as if the air is talking to them, well Harper had. "Just what I said Galaver, a kludge, blond, bloody, short, annoying as hel..." At the word "short", Harper had activated the bomb in the bag. By the word "annoying", he had the bomb out of the bag, and by the word "as", the bomb was rolling across the bloody floor. By "hell", the small ball shaped bomb had hit the speaker's boot.

"Sorry you didn't get to see our tour," Harper said as he quickly dived behind one of the larger pieces of equipment. A nano-second later all he heard was "Shi---KA BOOM!!", followed by various gushy organs, flesh, bones and liquid hitting the walls and each other. Soon it was raining. Blood showered onto Harper's smiling face, a spleen bounced off his shoulder, a small bit of gray matter landed in his hair, pushing down some of his spikes. He picked out the slimy tissue and fixed his spikes. He found out that getting hit in the head by part of a femur kinda hurt. Once the storm of body parts ended, he peaked out from behind his hiding place.

The walls, ceiling and floors were coated in Pytho. "Hmm, nice wall paper, I think I like it, but the new floor covering has to go," Harper said to himself while taking in the carnage. His bomb had worked perfectly. It was a Harper special called a Soft Bomb which was made to only obliterate flesh and bones. No damage to machinery or other metal objects would occur. Perfect for an engine room battle.

Harper strolled over to the open doors. His feet sunk into the intestines of one of the Pythos as a small piece of a kidney fell from the organ coated ceiling onto his shoulder. Harper picked it off and flipped the bloody piece of organ over in his hand, examining it.

A small smile crept into is still bruised face. "Oh yeah, this is gonna be fun," he said with glee as he tossed the meaty soft kidney bit over his shoulder.

TBC...


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks for all the feedback. It just cheers me right up :) 

Here's the long awaited(?) chapter ten.

Warning for the rest of the story: It's all gonna be very gory and gruesome. You have been warned.

Now ENJOY!!

Chapter 10

Trance's eyes were locked onto Harper's retreating form as he raced down the empty corridor away from her. Fear and helplessness grew in her as she felt Nixic taking over her body once again. She felt her mouth move and her vocal cords vibrate as Nixic commanded her voice to yell. "DAMN IT!!" 

It was odd, all the feelings that Trance felt. She felt her emotions of hope that Harper got away and fear about losing control to Nixic while she also felt Nixic's emotions of frustration and anger at Harper getting away and at losing control of Trance. It was like a hurricane of emotions with different feelings hitting her from every direction each second. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on one emotion. Hope. The hope she felt as she saw the engineer's back disappear as he rounded the corner. All the other emotions were pushed aside. She was in the eye of the storm and the battle for her body had begun.

Nixic was strengthening and about to order her voice to contact the others to report the loose mudfoot. Trance couldn't let this happen. She had to give Harper more time to formulate his plan that she knew his genius mind was already formulating. Trust in the Harper, he would always say, and she always did. 

Trance ordered her head, which was resting comfortable on the cold metal floors to rise, and surprisingly it followed her order. Then with all her might she slammed her head back down to the ground. The back of her skull made deafening contact with the hard surface. Her ears were ringing like a damage alarm in a failing ship. She painfully lifted her head back up when Nixic spoke through her own mouth.

"W-What do you think you're doing!?" her aghast voice asked herself. This was strange even to Trance.

Trance replied with her inner voice. "Knocking..." she slammed her head again... "us..." her golden dread locked head raised and trembled... "out." The battered head made connect with the floor once more as Trance and Nixic let out a collective scream in both pain and determination. The primal scream reverberated throughout the acoustic halls before returning to Trance's ears. Trance drew all her strength to lift her now overly heavy head once more. Her head fluttered on top of her shoulders like a flag on a windy day. Then, using every muscle in her neck and upper body, she hurtled her head to the floor. Metal, flesh and bone collided as Trance and Nixic collectively slipped into blissful unconscious.

*********

At the front of the brightly illuminated bridge, Beka/Velac was finishing up Galaver's tour of the ship. "And these are the controls for slipstreaming." Beka's hand pointed out the associated controls. She turned to address the inhospitable face of Galaver. "So, does the ship meet your expectations?"

The Alpha of the Pytho pride glanced around at the atheistically pleasing design of the bridge. He pressed his thin lips together as he gave a slight sneer. A short huff of a breath escaped through his pointed nose as he tipped his head back in a nod. His tight lips released as he answered, "The decor is a bit too cheerful and bright, but that can be dealt with. Otherwise, it's an impressive ship. I am pleased." Joy could almost be heard breaking through his stoic disposition.

A slight smile was growing on Beka's face. A smile was beyond the real Beka's control. Hell, she thought, everything was beyond her control. For a freighter control freak of a captain, this was a very frustrating situation. Then her voice spoke without her permission and the frustration level grew. "I'm glad you are pleased. I look forward to the work we will accomplish with this vessel." 

Beka could feel Velac's blood lust grow as images of future carnage danced in her head. She had access to all of Velac's memories and knowledge, just as Velac had to hers. The growing sense of worry, frustration and hopelessness mixed with the complete lack of knowledge about these aliens compelled the freighters captain to go for a brief history lesson within Velac's memories. 

Apparently the aliens were called Calastors. Their natural state was pure energy which makes sense when one lives in a nebula in the vacuum of space. Like the Pythos, they were a violent and brutal race. For fun, some of the more restless ones would take over ships, as they did to the Andromeda, and cause as much havoc as possible. Killing, plundering, torturing, or just playing mind games with the non-inhabited crew. The only thing that keep the Calastors in check was the fact that if they took over a body it meant they would die when the host dies. There was no way to return to their previous eternal energy state. Their energy would leave the host's as it died and would dissipate painfully throughout the universe. There were folklores about some who tried to be in the nebula when their host died and had successfully returned home alive, but those were just a children's tales. 

When Beka reached this information, her heart sank even more. Damn it, she wanted her body back! Trying to occupy her mind, so to ignore the rising sense of panic, Beka went deeper into Velac's vast pits of knowledge.

The Pytho/Calastors relation was Beka's next lesson. A few years back, a group of restless Calastors took over a rather large Pytho warship. The group of ten were first looking forward to playing with the non-inhabited minds. When they got bored with that, they planned on taking the powerful warship to a nearby planet and wagging war on it's inhabitants. Images of screaming blood covered children raced through their minds as pure anticipation filled their energy built souls. But that plan never took off since that plan never took into account the even crueler, harsher Pythos that were aboard that ship. Within days the Pythos had figured out something was amiss and the ten strange acting crew members were shot on site. No warnings, no questions. A fellow Pytho just walked up behind them and fired. 

The bodies and ship records were studied. The results pointed to the nebula they had passed a few days ago and to the strange energy burst they had experienced. The energy patterns recorded from the inhabited matched those of the nebula. 

The large caravan of Pythos ship, called The Pack, surrounded the nebula within a month. The Pack is thousands of ships deep and wide and is the nomadic home of the brutal Nietzscheans. When a planet is eclipsed by the swarm of ships, the whole population would simultaneously bend over and kiss their asses goodbye...that was if that species had asses. The Calastors, being one of the latter species, could do nothing when the thousands of ships all locked onto their home with special designed weapons that could destroy a nebula. The wise Calastors send over an ambassador to discuss options with the current Alpha of the Pythos. A pack was reached that the Calastors would help out the Pythos on certain missions and the Pytho's would not destroy the nebula. The alliance worked out well for the destruction loving species as there was carnage involved. Ego fights were common during down times, but the arguments usually ended with faster species winning. The Pythos kept control by making sure the Calastors only inhabited less powerful species. This meant the Pythos usually won any argument and the Calastor and host usually ended up dead on the floor.

Beka had had enough. She pushed back all of the information from Velac. She always hate history lessons and this one proved to be no different. She hung her non-corporeal head down, cradling it in her non-corporeal hands. She could feel Velac's rising sense of excitement and giddiness now that the allies had the most powerful warship in the universe as their toy. Within the giddiness from Velac, Beka felt her own hopelessness floating around her void like glitter in a shaken snow globe. Tears fell from her eyes and sobs wracked through her mental self as she cried. She cried for the universe. She cried for her friends and she cried for herself. Over her sobs, she could still hear the conversation her body was having with Galaver.

"...you like it. So when do we get to destroy something?" her voice asked as the grin was glued on her face. Beka could feel that Velac was restraining her body from jumping up and down like a little kid before their birthday.

"Patience, patience. You Calastors are always in such a hurry. Remember, the longer the wait, the richer the reward." the deep voice lectured with a hint of joy in his tone.

A young voice spoke up from one of the rear consoles, "Sir, the other ships are awaiting your orders."

Part of the Galaver wanted to return home to his many wife and children. He knew several of his mates were in heat and were awaiting his arrival, but his childish urge to play with his new present amazing tugged stronger than his adult urge to procreate. His ancestors would be ashamed. "Tell them to proceed back to The Pack without us. We will meet up with them in a few days." A huge smile then broke through his stone face. One would have thought his face would shatter with such a show of emotion. "But first, we are going to test out our newest toy." Galaver paused as the young Pytho sent the order. "How close is the nearest populated planet?" he asked the now free Nietzschean.

The twenty-something punched in some commands on his console. "About two days away, sub-light speed. Sorry, no Slip Points between here and there."

"Population?" Galaver asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Umm," he punched in more commands, "In the billions, with five orbiting space stations. Minimal defenses." He added the last part hoping that his Alpha was planning what he thought he was planning.

"Perfect." Galaver turned to face Beka/Velac. "Can you and your friends manage to wait two days or do I need to let you have some more fun with that kludge?" 

Beka's cold harsh voice answered, "We can wait, but we'll still take you up on your offer." The still sobbing Beka felt the rest of her stomach drop at the thought of another torture session with Harper. Her sobs were replace with an anguishing yell that only she and Velac could hear. Velac flooded Beka with feelings of pleasure and joy at her own suffering. 

Galaver turned to face the lower pride member. "Set course, max speed."

******

About an hour later, the ship that was built to keep peace and hope alive was slowly increasing it's speed towards the now doomed innocent planet. Galaver was absentmindedly staring out the large view screen dreaming of the destruction to come. He could already hear the wonderful sounds of explosions, the cries for help, and the screams of the dieing. A tingling sensation was pacing up and down his spine while his bone blades were quivering with excitement. This is what Pythos lived for, the glory of the hunt and slaughter, the feeling of superiority. His inner child was singing and dancing with joy.

To keep herself occupied while they traveled, the equally anxious Velac was using Beka's knowledge to teach the lower Pythos how to use the ship's systems. This is what Tyr and Dylan had been doing throughout the ship since the Pythos boarded, playing Tour Guide. Velac was sure that the quiet peaceful activity was wearing them thin and that their natural urge to follow the Chaos Theory was building. That poor mudfoot was gonna get a good work over later today. Velac returned focus to the mindless, boring lesson she was giving.

"Here is how you bring up the damage report...here's radar...and here's the engine status..." Beka/Velac paused as she read the engine report. No, that can't be right she thought. Quickly, she punched in more commands and double checked the report. She looked up from the disturbing data and commanded the Alpha's attention. "Galaver, I think we have a problem."

The image of an exploding space station vanished from Galaver's mind as Beka's voice brought him back to the present. He sighed and turned to face her. "What is it?" 

Beka's face was stern with a hint of worry but her voice was steady. "The engines just went off-line. They had only reached half speed when they went down. With that momentum, we will reach the planet in a little over four days. And I'm unsure as to why the engines went off-line. We need to send a team down to the engine room to check it out."

"Great, just great," complained Galaver. His felt like a kid who had suddenly had his birthday party delayed and his presents were placed on a shelf just beyond his reach. His crest fallen face stared into thin air as he activated his comms unit. "Belar, the engines just went offline. Take a team down to the engine room and see what the hell is wrong and fix it....NOW!!!!" he yelled as anger quickly replaced his short lived sadness.

"Yes sir!" the disembodied voice replied.

Galaver's pent up energy sent him on a mad pace in command. He walked his frustration out. With each spin on his heal, more anger dissipated and his normal stoic disposition returned. By the time he was almost back to normal, a familiar voice filled command. Belar was reporting back.

"Galaver, I think we found what stopped the engines. Did you happen to lose a very talkative and annoying kludge by any chance?"

"What?" Galaver spat out. He was desperately fighting his reflex to widen his eyes in shock. How did one of the original crew escape both his people and the Calastors? It couldn't be the pitiful excuse for a kludge that he first meet, could it?

The voice of Belar filled command once more, "Just what I said Galaver, a kludge, blond, bloody, short, annoying as hel..." The comms went silent. Galaver's right thin eyebrow slowly raised in reply to the sudden quiet.

The silence was broken by an annoying nasally high pitched voice, "Sorry you didn't get to see our tour."

A nano-second later Belar's deep voice sent shivers down all the spines on the bridge. "Shi---KA BOOM!!".......Static.....Silence. 

Galaver's eyes narrowed at the sound. An explosion? An escaped inferior human? Not on his ship! "Get me video feed of the engine room!" he yelled as his paced-away anger returned with a vengeance.

Within seconds, the view screen had a live time shot of the engine room. Jaws all over the command hit the floor as stoic face after stoic face was filled with shock. Even Beka's non-existent eyes had stopped shedding tears and were locked on the view screen.

The image that widened the pupils of all in the room was the image of a massacre wrapped in a bloodbath surrounded by carnage. Through the blood that flowed down over the camera lens, the outcome of the explosion was revealed. Crimson colored oozing walls, what looked like organs dripping off the now very textured ceiling, a lake of obliterated body parts that covered the floor. And in the middle, slowly taking in the wrenching site, was a smiling unharmed kludge. No one dared to speak as they watched the blood bathed engineer examining a piece of an organ that had just rained down on his shoulder. The sick smile grew larger on his still purple and black bruised face as he flung the fleshy bit behind him. He then proceeded to wade through the new lake and strolled out the open door. The now lifeless engine room was reflected in all the unblinking eyes on the eerily quiet command.

"Turn it off," Galaver's quiet, tight voice ordered. When the image didn't disappear off the view screen the second he ended his sentence, he spun around. "NOW!!!" His voice almost vibrated the walls as his pale face was now the same sadistic crimson that filled the view screen. The flustered Pytho at the controls clumsily shut down the link to the carnage filled room.

Galaver had never felt such rage. His blood was almost literally boiling as it raced through his veins and arteries. How the hell did that pathetic injured kludge first escape his guards and that golden girl, and then how did he managed to obliterate twenty of his fellow Pythos? What the hell kind of bomb was that anyways? In all his life of killing, blowing things up and general carnage, he had never seen such a gruesome scene as had just filled his vision. He wanted that kludge for so many reasons now. To find out how to build that bomb and for painful, excruciating revenge. Nobody, especially not some inferior mudfoot, got the best of Galaver Merilis, out of Athenia by Mercurous, Alpha of the Pytho pride.

He spun around to face the still shell shocked Beka/Velac. "EXPLAIN!" 

Beka was woken from her state of shock when Velac ordered her eyes off the now blank view screen and onto the furious Pytho. Beka still couldn't believe what her eyes had just seen. Was that really Harper? Her weak defenseless Harper? How'd he get by Trance and the guards. Had Trance managed to break Nixic's hold on her? If so, why wasn't she there with...Harper? Her mind still couldn't wrap around the idea that that blood bathed, cold smiling face could be her Seamus's. She knew that he had a bit of a dark side from growing up and surviving on Earth, but she never imagined he was capable of that much butchery. What the hell was he thinking anyways. He was gonna get himself killed if he was lucky. If unlucky...her mind wouldn't even let herself go there. Who knows what horrors the Pythos would put him through for doing this to them. She would have cried more tears but she had none left. She would have felt more fear and hopelessness, but she was too numb. All she could do was sink into the darkness of her conciseness and watch her life and her families' lives dissolve around her.

She felt Velac order her uneven voice to answer the outraged Galaver. "I-I-I don't know. Beka doesn't know either."

Galaver raced up to the rear station where Beka/Velac was standing and got within inches of her stunned face. His warm breath engulfed her senses as he responded through clenched teeth with a now more quiet restrained voice. "Not good enough. How did he escape my guards and your colleague?"

Velac's initial shock was wearing off and her normal irate self was returning. "Well how the hell am I suppose to know that!! I've been standing here the whole frelling time!! Contact her and ask her yourself you pathetic excuse of a Nietzs...." noticing that Galaver's hand was quickly heading for his gun, Velac just as quickly stopped her insult and backed down out of his face. "There is no need for that, sorry, the moment just got away from me. Just contact Nixic. We will get our answer from her." 

Galaver kept a death stare locked on Beka/Velac as he slowly moved his hand away from his weapon. Right now, the information on that kludge that Beka held was more important than the enjoyment he would get from filling her blonde hair with her gray matter. His now calmer voice spoke as he activated his comms. "Nixic respond." 

Silence.

"Nixic, respond," his voice was now louder, anger was seeping into each syllable.

Silence.

He lost it again. "NIXIC RESPOND OR DIE!!" Again, his ancestors would not be proud.

Finally, a voice answered. "Huh...What?...Ow."

Again semi-composed, the Alpha spoke, "What happened to the kludge Nixic?"

"Ow...um...he surprised your guards and killed them, then knocked me out...ow...Sorry." The wise Nixic purposely left out the information about Trance taking back control. If anyone found out, she would be killed on site.

Back on command, the still red faced Galaver began to grind his teeth. Within a few hours he would be grinding his gums. He locked his eyes back onto Beka's form. "How does Beka explain this? What is he capable of?" Teeth still grinding.

"She didn't know he was capable of this. She is just as shocked as we are. I even sense she now has some fear towards the boy." A small smile crept onto her face. Quickly, she regained her composure. "Sorry, I'm just enjoying her emotions. She's in quite a state." She paused realizing only she cared about Beka's emotional crisis. "Really, all she knows is that he did survive on a Drago-Kazov slave planet for twenty years and that he is a genius. How he took out to larger Nietzscheans and Trance, she is completely clueless on."

Galaver envisioned a bullet entering Beka's forehead and watched the blood and gray matter splatter out the back. His hand twitched towards his gun. What use was she?! He shook his head and realized that she wasn't worth the waste of a perfectly good bullet, not yet anyways. He turned his back to her and faced the empty view screen. Clearing his voice, he began to speak, "Ship wide. Attention Pythos. Be on the look out for a short blonde kludge. I want him captured and brought to me. Kill him and you will be killed. He's mine." He really didn't want to say the last part but he also didn't want a single kludge to wipe out his whole crew. That would just look bad. He sighed and continued, "Also, use caution. He's more dangerous than he looks."

*******

"He's more dangerous than he looks," echoed throughout the featureless dimly lit conduit that that short blonde kludge was currently crawling through. A snicker escaped his lips as he continued on his painfully slow struggle. Trying to move through the tight cramped space proved to be quite difficult with only one functional arm and a bomb-laden bag.

The corridor brighten up and widened at an upcoming junction. After a few more minutes of painful crawling, Harper finally reached said junction. After nervously glancing around for invisible enemies, he stretched his aching body in the slightly larger, but still cramped, space. After hearing bones crack and muscles expand, he got to work. 

He managed to pull one of the panels off to expose a tangled mess of wires and circuitry. He pulled out his datapad and some connection wires from the specially deigned pockets on his pants. He connected the small palm device to one of the many wires and began to download certain programs and data. Programs that gave him up-to-the-minute reports on where everyone was located on the ship, data about nearby ships, and some other useful information. Harper noted that the three Pytho ship were already out of sensor range. "Finally, something goes right for the old Harper." he cheered. His plan did not include those ships. If they were still within range he was just gonna curl up in the conduit and will himself to death. 3,000 Pytho's he could handle, but three ships filled with Pythos was simply hopeless. Even The Harper was not that good.

He struggled to place the wall panel back with one arm. After much cursing and finally success, he returned to his datapad. He punched in a query for Medical. A crude image of Medical's layout and about fifteen green dots appeared. He reached down and rubbed his lucky rabbit foot that always hung on his pants. "Nice job Spooky. Keep dishing out that good luck." Green dots meant Pythos, blue triangles meant humans, a red star meant Tyr. Harper had keyed in the program to differentiate between Pytho genes and Kodiak genes. As much as he didn't care for Tyr sometimes, he still didn't want the Kodiak's guts to end up on the ceiling somewhere. Lastly a purple smiley face meant Trance. He was going to use gold, but sentiment got the better of him.

Shoving the wires and pad back in his pockets, he groaned as he re-entered the smaller conduits. A few feet in, he was already missing the wide open spaces of the junction. To ignore his aching body, his mind focused on his destination. Medical.

*********

Both of his arms were throbbing. His left arm from the earlier incident and from stupidly trying to move it and put weight on it and his right from being the sole support during the long crawl. He let out a sigh of relief when he spotted the grating that he wanted. If he focused, he could even hear the voices of some Pythos. Very carefully he slithered up to the opening that overlooked Medical. Again, he pulled out his datapad to double check who was in room below him. All green dots. He replaced the pad in his hand with another Harper Special which was just pulled from his Bag-O-Destruction, as he affectionately came to call it.

Crawling through cramped conduits for hours had given him time to name his bombs. This one was called Electro-Boogie. It would lock onto the electric charge that was transmitted between a living beings nerves. Once locked on, it would send out wickedly high voltage charge of electricity to the target. It could only lock onto the electric charges in open spaces because it could not penetrate walls.

Resting the bomb on the floor of the conduit, he took the Shriller that still hung around his neck, placed it on his dry cracked lips, and blew. Cries of pain bellowed up from below him. As quickly as a one armed man could, he cracked open the grated vent, activated the bomb and threw it down into the room. Dropping the vent back down, he quickly scurried back down the conduit. He wasn't sure if the bomb would lock onto his nerves through the grated opening or not. Either way, he wanted to be far away when it went off. 

About fifteen seconds and two hundred feet later, Electro-Boogie went off. Screams of agony first filled the acoustic conduit. Then the smell of cooking flesh wafted into Harper's nostrils. The small endearing dimple appeared on his blood caked cheek as a lopsided smile broke onto his face.

Minutes later the screams had stopped. Harper took his cue and started his way back to the grate. Opening it again, he peaked his head down to see what damaged he caused.

Fifteen burnt, charred, and unrecognizable corpses littered the floor of Medical. Their hair was disintegrated and their faces were frozen in different states of chilling agony. Most of them were still smoldering, filling the air with a sickening stench. An image of Pythos incenses filled Harper's mind as he let out a chuckle.

The human hopped down from the opening in the ceiling. He landed in a crouching position with his face only inches away from one of his victims whose mouth was open in one last painful scream. Her white teeth stood out in sharp contrast to her otherwise charred face.

Harper moved his hand to her mouth and scraped her front teeth with one of his dirt covered fingernail. Pulling his hand back, he examined the scrapings. "Ahh. plaque, you need to brush more often." He wiped off his finger on his pants as he stood up and glanced around the room looking for what he came for. His eyes locked onto a cabinet and his legs took him to his acquired target.

Opening the cabinet revealed all sorts of bottles and jars filled with all types of drugs and chemicals. He glanced over the labels and picked up two liquid filled bottles and one powdered filled jar. He placed them in separate compartments in his blood coated bag. 

He contemplated if he needed anything for himself here. Most of his earlier injures were better and the other two main injures he had no idea how to treat. He just hoped he could regain use of both his arm and port. He didn't' want to even contemplate life without his port, or even his arm for that matter.

Adding those fears to his overflowing worry box, he focused on his original question. He decided he should at least grab some nano-bots to have on hand just incase he needed them later. He went to the appropriate cabinet, grabbed the syringes he wanted, and placed them in one of the smaller pocket on the compartment abundant bag.

Pulling out his datapad again he noted his next target. Crawling back up into the conduit proved to be very, very difficult with one arm, but eventually he managed. Seeing the dark tunnel stretching out in front of him, he let out a deep sigh. It was gonna be a long next couple of days.

TBC....


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Big THANK YOU to all my reviewers. Feedback makes my day. And thanks Ash for the three great feedbacks. Yeah!! You increased my review count! My poor sad low review count...hint hint. :)

I'll shut up now. Enjoy the gore and angst.

Chapter 11

Explosion still echoed through Harper's eardrums. He could still feel the vibrations from the seemingly endless shockwaves that wracked the ship for the past three days. Of course, he really couldn't complains seeing that he was the one whom had caused all of the explosions he now complained about. 

It had been three days since he left the corpse-filled Med Deck. In those days he had killed almost three thousands Pythos. The body count was getting so high that even the vengeful mudfoot was getting a foul taste in his mouth. By the middle of the second day, his need to see more Pythos in writhing fatal agony was fading. Also fading was the sick smile that had been pasted on his face after each explosion. By the middle of the third day, the causing the constant barrage of excruciating screams of death had become a drudgery. Command all the door an a deck to stay open, drop and Electr-O-Boogie onto said deck, sit back and listen to hundreds of Pythos shriek as they are toasted alive. The ways the screams sounded still held a bit of interest to the genius. It was like a wave of agony coursing through the deck. First the ones closest to the bomb would screech, then the ones nearest to them would join in as the electricity reached them. The wave of cries would continue until the current of energy found the last and farthest away Pytho on the deck. It was almost like a sick, sweet symphony to Harper. Any other joy he had felt from their deaths and pain were gone. Even the few times he would use his favorite bomb, the soft bomb which he coined The Ooze-O-Rama, brought him no sense of satisfaction. He was simply numb. He guessed whoever was right when they said too much of anything is a bad thing.

Right now he just wanted it to be over. He just wanted to get out of the claustrophobic conduits he had confined himself to. He wanted to walk instead of crawl. He now knew how a child feels when they can only crawl and are unable to walk. Very frustrating and slow going. He wanted to scream, to let a roar of all his pent up emotions rip from his throat. Or at least pound a wall, stomp around, make some sort of sound. The quite between the explosions had become more deafening than the actually blasts. But most off all he wanted his friends back, he wanted everything to be back to normal. Of course he knew, even if everything worked out, they could never return to "normal". Not after this. And oh yes, he also wanted that damn imaginary magog to stop following him. Stupid Buzz. The hairs on the back of his neck were sore from standing at attention for so long. Since that pill had dissolved under his tongue, he had felt a set of beady little eyes locked onto his back. Every corner he came upon sent his heart racing around a mile long race track. He kept waiting to round a bend in the creepy conduits and to see those beady eyes staring back at him. Just staring at him in the dark, not attacking, not moving, just watching. Every hour, every minute, every second, for the past three days he felt this. Even with the high from the Buzz, it was becoming exhausting.

On the bright side, at least his Bag-o-Carnage was getting progressively lighter over the days. Now, as Harper made his way to his last stand off, the bag was exceptionally light. Only one bomb, the bottles he got from medical and a few gadgets were left. Luckily, that was all he was going to need to rid Andromeda of the last sixteen remaining Pythos who were all conveniently located on the bridge with all his friends. He had them cornered. Stupid Pythos.

Blood coated, dirt covered and aching in every joint, the wary Harper continued to drag himself with one arm down the dark and lonely conduits. With each movement of an throbbing limb, he edged closer and closer to command and his final stand off.

*******

In the corridor directly outside of command, Dylan Hunt's body was uncharacteristically leaning against the wall. His stance was much more reminiscing of Tyr's that of the disciplined Highguard captain's. Galaver had ordered Fex to take Dylan's body to that location to help guard command. The hope was that the little psychopath of a kludge wouldn't be able to use one of his deadly bombs if one of his friends were in the kill zone. This logic was the same logic that had the rest of the original crew on command gathered around the Alpha.

Fex held in a snicker when he remembered the look on Galaver's face when that runt stated massacring his crew. The Calastor helped himself to Dylan's analogy of a thermometer that had the mercury exploding through the top. The image was priceless. The restrained snicker managed to sneak it's way out past his clenched lips.

"What?!" one of the two Pythos that were on guard with Dylan/Fex snidely asked.

"Nothing, go back to guarding." Dylan/Fex replied annoyingly. The sub-beta gave the human a death stare before he turned back to watching the empty corridors.

The real Dylan still cringed every time he heard his voice be used without his command. He still flinched every time he saw his hand or body move without his say. He saw everything, heard everything, felt everything, but couldn't even blink his eyelids. This was hell for a Highguard captain. He was suppose to be in charge of a whole ship, a full crew, but now he couldn't even control his tongue. 

For the past three days all he could do was sit in his mind and watch his ship get taken over by his possessed friends, watch his other friend get beaten, watch his ship get boarded by thousands of Nietzscheans and watch his engineer turn into a psychopathic mass murderer. All this happened and all the captain of the most powerful ship in the known universe could do was watch.

Early on, he had tried to fight for rightful control of his body, but that only resulted in waves of pain. Energy would tear through every inch of his being, not his body mind you, but his being, his mind, his soul, his what-ever-you-wanted-to-call-it. It took about a day of the excruciating pain to teach Dylan that it was better to just watch. There was no hope in fighting Fex. So Dylan just sat back and watched the horror movie that was playing out before his eyes. Eyes that he couldn't even tell where to look or when to look away. He set his wishes lower. Now, he just wanted a big bag of greasy, sweet popcorn to munch on for the length of the feature film.

The current cinematic experience was a bit too gory for Dylan's taste. The villains were just there for fodder for the copious amount of explosions. Their only lines were usually yells and screams. The main bad guy was a bit deeper and smarter, but he was still no match for the hero. Was he really a hero or just a maniac with bombs? Dylan still wasn't sure.

Sure the runt was smaller, weaker, and the last person Dylan would ever expect to fight instead of flight, but was he a hero? The seed of doubt in his mind was planted by the way the bombs were designed, for the maximum amount of pain and carnage.

Dylan remembered when he and Fex were first called to the bridge three days ago right after the engineer's first few massacres were discovered. The doors to command opened and Dylan was greeted with Harper's handy work.

Dylan non-existent stomach convulsed when he saw the view screen that held images of Deck 13. Various live shots from all over the deck still were locked in Dylan's memory. Corpses, hundreds of smoldering, blacken, naked, hairless, corpses. There was so much smoke rising from the charred remains that all of the deck was captured in a thick eerie fog. The thought that made the scene completely unbearable was that his friend and trusted colleague was the one responsible for the carnage. 

To add injury to insult, Dylan also had to deal with Fex's emotions. While Dylan was in aghast dismay, Fex was glowing with pride and respect for the scene before them. He deeply respected anyone who could cause that much bloodshed. In fact, he was almost envious. The flood of emotions overwhelmed Dylan. Oh how he wanted a intermission.

However, he never did get a break, not even a commercial break. What he did get was more carnage than he ever wanted to see. At first Galaver tried to locate the mass murdering kludge, but the computers couldn't locate Harper's life sign or any presence of him on the ship. Beka or Velac (whomever...this two persons in one thing was getting quite confusing), anyways, she/they suggested that Harper had most likely made a device that could block his presence from the computer. Dylan could still hear the string of curses that roared out of the Alpha's mouth.

Each hour passed with more Pythos dead and no sign of Harper. That was until early on in the second day. An explosion was just reported from the Mess Hall and the view screen on command went straight to a live shot of that area. More images that will haunt Dylan forever appeared before them.

There were about fifty or sixty Pythos writhing in pain and screaming...that was if they still had the ability to scream. Near one of the walls laid a small metal device, surrounding that device laid five lucky souls who died in the initial small blast. The remaining Pythos weren't so lucky. Something, god knows what, was dissolving their skin, organs and bones into a slimy sludge. The poor Pythos' skin was turning into mush before his eyes leaving glimpses of their muscles. On some, who were farther along, their muscles were dripping off their now visible bones. On others , inner organs were now outer organs. But one face was engrave into Dylan's memory more than any other. A young female Pytho, had to be around Harper's age, was looking directly at the view screen. Her eyelids had already been dissolved as had part of her cheek. Dylan could actually see into her mouth, through her cheek, and could watch as her tongue turned into a highly viscous fluid which both gagged her and silenced her scream at the same time. He watched as her pleading eyes slowing disappeared into the growing puddle of gelatinous liquid. To Dylan's surprise, Fex even got a bit nauseous and weak in the knees after seeing the mess in the Mess Hall.

After what seemed like hours, but in reality was only minutes, the screams died down and the room was void of anything that slightly resembled a living organism. The floors and surfaces were coated in a thick layer of sludge. The color of which didn't even had a description, let alone a name. Then movement. A panel near the incendiary metal object moved and a head popped out. The smile that filled that face made Dylan want to cut out his own eyes. All he could look into were the eyes on that face. They were so filled with a mixture of hate, pleasure and pain. Dylan could not make himself believe that that face belonged to the same light-hearted, joke-making engineer he had come to trust and protect. It was not, could not, be the same person. Dylan knew so little of Harper's past, but he couldn't even imagine what that boy had been through that could make him capable of both that smile and the horror he had just witnessed.

Hunt was now quite glad his wish for popcorn had not been granted, for if it had, that popcorn would be back in the bag after a brief visit to his stomach. Now all he wished was for it all to end. He didn't care how, he just wanted so badly to see those two small words pop up on the screen..."The End."

**********

Deck 28, Engineering, Med Deck, Deck 33, Slipstream core. Images from all over the ship flashed on the hypnotizing view screen on command. Nixic forced Trance to watch through her own eyes. In each new location, they all saw the same thing, corpses, corpses and more corpses. But the one thing, or person have you, that they were actually looking for continued to elude the ever watchful eyes of the ship cameras...Harper. Since everyone one else who was still breathing was huddled on the bridge, remote searching was the only and safest way to look for her friend. 

Both inhabitants of Trance's body were shocked by the amount of carnage one person could cause. Trance's shocked was joined with sadness that her friend had fallen so far, while Nixic's shocked was sprinkled with intrigue. The energy creature was captivated by how that runt could do such damage, by what his bombs could do, what it would feel like to be burned to death, the list went on and on. As both inhabitances of Trance's body shared the shock, they also both shared an innate sense of curiosity about life. When Trance realized she couldn't break free and that they might be stuck together for the rest of her life, she decided to take advantage of the situation and get to know Nixic, one on one. So they actually talked instead of simply invading each other's memories. Trance found out that Nixic was a something of a minority in Calastor society. Sure she loved carnage and chaos, but she was rare in that she was a thinker, a scientist some would say. She had agreed to go on this mission not just to relish in the agony of others, but also to experience the universe. To see what it was like to eat, sleep, be corporeal. Trance's species had the same curiosity of corporeality, hence all their transformations in life. Transformations, Trance secretly hoped, would kick Nixic out of her body. Unfortunately the next physical change wouldn't occur for a little over two hundred years. Trance had been looking forward to that growth period since she was a child. The turquoise blue always looked so pretty. And the horns, she always wanted the horns. 

Due to Trance's acceptance of her situation, she was taking the inhabitation much better than the others. True, the complete lack of control frustrated her as did the inability to sense any future. The latter part actually scared her shitless, so she kept herself occupied by studying Nixic. She had always been fascinated with other life forms, so this time was no different. A little more annoying, but really no different. Both she and Nixic wanted to learn from this experience, Trance just wanted it done with a lot less violence.

The golden alien would have been more at ease if it wasn't for her friends. She knew they wouldn't be taking the inhabitation well. Both Dylan and Tyr had to be boiling over in anger by now, and from what Velac had said about Beka's emotional state earlier, it sounded like Beka taking it the hardest. Poor Beka. At least Rommie and Andromeda were off line and were speared any real pain, she hoped. But it was the smallest crew member who worried Trance the most. The one who was spared the angst of being inhabited. She was unlucky enough to be on command the one time Harper was spotted in what seemed like years ago. The glaze that laid over his cold eyes broke her heart. She feared for what this situation had released in him, for what demons it brought up in him that allowed him to commit and especially enjoy such atrocious acts of violence. But she mostly feared that the Harper they knew and loved was now lost forever in those heartless eyes.

If only she could see a perfect possible future, if only she could see any future, she would be a bit more at ease. As of now, all the powerful golden goddess could do was watch. Watch and wait.

****

Galaver, Alpha of all Pythos was still quite shocked that he hadn't had a massive heart attack yet. Quietly, he thanked his ancestors for such a resilient heart and arties. For the past three days his blood pressure had been through the roof. The veins on his forehead had not rested since that first explosion in the engine room. All this pressure and tension was all cause by one wounded runt of a kludge. Just that thought made the pressure in his arties double.

Galaver paced, slowly wearing away a rut in the metal floor of command while he half watched the flashing images on the view screen and half wallowed in his anger. How could one single mudfoot take out almost his whole crew? It was unheard of, impossible! He must be dreaming. Yes, any moment, his favorite wife would wake him from his distressing sleep and they would make sweet love. Galaver tightly closed his eyes as he walked, waiting for the strong soft hand to shake him from his nightmare. That hand never came. This nightmare was real. He was about to be humiliated and possibly killed by a lowly human. 

What made the situation even more cruel was that help was just a comms away. At any time over the past three day, the Alpha could have just sent out a distress call to the Hive. They would have been to the Andromeda's location in a matter of days. True, he now realized that they would have been too late anyways, but the pure humiliation of having to make that call still haunted the egomaniac. "Help! A single weak, wounded, runt of a kluge is killing all 3,000 of us. Please send back-up." Just imagining himself saying that message, let alone sending it, made him want to vomit. Even if making that call would have saved their lives, he still wouldn't have done it. Why would he want to live with the raging flood of humiliation it would have brought forth. His wives would leave him and his children would be branded as weakling offspring of an pathetic unfit Pytho. Death would be better than that outcome, so that call for help was never made.

Now that he thought about it, there was really never any hope against this unseen enemy. The human struck randomly, fast and invisibly. Before they could even learned about the latest bombing, that runt was long gone already planning the next attack. They even tried to anticipate his next move, tried to figure out his pattern, but there was no pattern. Complete chaos. Galaver eventually ordered Pythos into the vents and conduits to try to capture the mad bomber, but all that the teams found were bombs. Bombs that would explode before the soon-to-be-splattered could even blink an eye.

And what those bombs could do; electrocute, obliterate, de-flesh a living creature, and one even induced such despair in it's victims that they all committed suicide within minutes of exposure to it. Nietzscheans committing suicide, completely unheard of. Amazing, simply amazing. With each bomb, Galaver's lust for Harper's brain swelled. Oh how he wanted that brain. That genius. The thought of what he could do with that technology brought him joy that he thought only being with his wives could bring.

The lust for Harper's genius even brought the Alpha to try to bargain with the little psycho at one point. He announced his terms over the comms only to receive a brief high pitched gritty answer of "Screw you uber". Again, his heart pumped double time and the veins on his forehead rose a few more inches.

On the bright side, the carnage filled expo that the human was giving was at least keeping the Calastors in check. They were getting their daily course of chaos and violence vicariously through Harper. All Galaver had to do was remind them that they were on his side by waving a loaded gun in their faces every once in awhile.

Galaver continued to pace back and forth like a tiger in a small rusted cage. Confined to command, confined to drift through space with no engines, confined to his anger. All his options were spent. All he could do was wait for the genius's next move and react. He had set up command so the boy couldn't attack them with one of his bombs unless he wanted to see his friends fried or obliterated as well. Galaver had his future pined on the hope that the boy was either not insane enough to kill his friend or that the boy actually did like his friends enough not to want to kill them. The Alpha just hoped his gamble would pay off.

**********

The strong, powerful, stoic Tyr had been reduced to a cheerleader and the strong, powerful, stoic Tyr was not happy about this. After three days of being inhabited by Stolic, he still fought and still endured the never ending pain. He was embarrassed to have such a stupid immature being like Stolic inhabit and control his body. On the bright side, the childish alien was bright enough to keep some important information from the Pythos. Since they shared memories, Stolic knew about the bones, Drago Museveni's bones, the highest valued prize in the Nietzscheans empire. Tyr was as ecstatic as Tyr can get when he found out that Stolic had no intentions of telling the Pythos about the bones. Even the Calastor didn't want the Pythos to have that much power. Stolic wanted it for himself and his people. For leverage. Therefore, this gave the psychotic engineer more time to save them before the whole universe went to hell in a handbag. So Tyr donned a nice little cheerleading outfit and pom-poms, and cheered on the little professor.

Actually, Tyr was quite impressed with the show the boy was putting on. He now understood how that cowering whining boy survived twenty years in a place like Earth. He now understood why every so often he would glimpse fire behind that child's eyes.

The Kodiak's non-corporeal grin grew with each new report that a deck full of Pythos had been electrocuted. The grin doubled on one particular deck, Deck 77, when the boy changed his technique a bit. Reports flooded in from all over that deck that the air was being sucked out. A sub-beta on command reported that Harper had turned Deck 77 into a air-tight sealed area. Even life support was not operational on that poor deck. It turned out that several small devices had been hidden in the sealed area and were sucking all the air out creating a vacuum. A vacuum that was slowly killing all life forms in that doomed area. Minutes later the comms went silent just as rescue teams had gained access to the sealed off area. The teams reported that everybody they saw had died from brain hemorrhaging from the vacuum. Minutes after the rescue team had started reporting the new deaths, a loud roar of rushing of air echoed over the comms. The same devices that had sucked all the air in, were now each unleashing the highly compressed air all at the same time causing a massive wave of air to hurdle through the deck. The bodies of the rescue teams and the bodies of the victims were now all mixed together in nice bloody pancakes on the walls on fateful Deck 77. 

Tyr continued to watch the view screen waiting to catch a glimpse of his real last and only hope. Fighting Stolic was proving to be futile. That fact was becoming crystal clear after three days of constant pain . His thoughts turned to the incoming images. Seeing all the dead bodies scattered throughout the ship forced a smile to his face due to Harper's genius and cunning. Deep inside Tyr's mind, three words echoed in the void..."That's my boy!"

*******

Beka cried and cried and cried. Or she would have if only she wasn't so emotionally drained and numb. In reality all she could do was curl up and watch her life fall apart. Watch her friends be lost in their own bodies. And watch her adopted baby brother cause more death and pain than she had ever witnessed or could even imagine. 

The loss of control is what broke Beka. Control was her center. Control is what kept her from becoming like her Dad, dead and Flash-fried. Control is how she survived as a captain in a cruel universe. Control kept her ship, her home, as her own. Saying that she was a control freak was an vast understatement. Control was all she ever had. And now that control was gone and she was nothing.

Compound that with the lack of control to even turn away from the horrid events that were unfolding on the ship and Beka Valentine was broken. Having to watch what Harper was doing turned her broken heart into nothing but shards of glass. She still couldn't believe it was her Seamus that had killed almost three thousand Nietzscheans in three days. Not her Seamus. With each new report of death, guilt mixed with disgust in her mind. She should be cheering him on. He was trying to save all of them for heavens' sake, but all she could feel was repulsion, dread and....anger? Why anger? Why was she mad at Harper for killing the bad guys? For not taking the higher road? Was there a higher road? She didn't know. Her mind was a storm of questions and emotions and yet it was so numb and empty.

In the dark prison of her mind, she dropped her head into her hands trying to obscure the visions her own eyes forcefully feed her. No matter how tightly she closed her eyelids or how deeply she buried her head in her hands, the crystal clear images of the carnage filled flashing view screen still invaded her mind. What she would do for some real darkness. Darkness that would envelop her and make all the pain go away.

*****

His body ached. His arms, legs, fingers and even toes felt like they would and should fall off at a moment's notice, but still he crawled. Harper had just checked his datapad and saw that two Pytho's and a human were standing guard outside of command. This was not what he wanted. They were all suppose to be IN command. Did they not know the plan? How rude. He would just have to adjust his brilliant strategy.

As he crawled closer to command, his mind raced with new possible updated plans. Within seconds he had arrived at his new course of action. Now all he had to do was drag his poor excuse of a body a few hundred yards more and begin the final phase of Plan Kill-Em-All. In under an hour he would be done with that plan, bu he refused to let his mind wander to the future, to his next plan. He would break down if his mind went there, it was just too horrible.

Closer and closer he crawled to the guarded hall where the final battle would begin. With each trembling forward reach of his arm and with each movement of his tired sore legs, the level of fear and anticipation doubled. He tried to savor the relative moment of peace he was experiencing right now for the near future held such horrors that even his mind cowered from the thought of it.

TBC...


	12. Chapter 12

Yeah!! More reviews! Thank you guys! 

Here's the next part. Shorter than normal, but, well, it's suppose to be. :^)

Enjoy!

Chapter 12

Harper expanded his still sore ribcage, filling his lungs with the life sustaining atmosphere that filled the cramped crawl space near command. The oxygen particles tickled his alveoli as they slowly infiltrated the blood that was rushing through the capillaries. Slowly he compressed his ribcage, expelling the air out over his sensitive tongue and back out into the cramped conduit. 

He calmed his panicking mind as he concentrated on his deep breaths, readying himself for his final battle. The engineer was crouching next to a hatch that would open up to the corridor directly in front of command. Just a few more deaths and he wouldn't have to kill anymore...at least for a while.

Taking one last deep calming breath, he reached into his bag, grabbed the last bomb, placed it on the floor in front of him, grabbed the shriller that hung around his neck and placed it in-between his cracked bleeding lips. Forcing his sore ribs to hold steady and keep the stale air contained within his lungs stationary, he released the lock on the access hatch and cracked it open an inch. The second he heard the creak of the hatch, he commanded his aching muscles to contract his ribs, forcing the air out of his lungs and through the shriller. No sound came from the whistle between his lips but screams of pain roared from the corridor. They rushed though the crack of the hatch and reverberated though Harper's ears. Still exhaling, he pushed the round metallic bomb out of the cracked open hatch. 

The bomb disappeared from his view as it dropped out of the conduit and onto the floor of the corridor. What little air was left in his lungs, he forced out through the shriller. When he could force no more, he quickly expanded his ribs once more filling his lungs with the sweet taste of oxygen, carbon dioxide and other trace elements. Once filled, he expelled the air slowly, again, forcing air through his weapon and listening to the screams he was causing.

*****

Fex was bored. Watch the empty corridor...guard the bridge...blah, blah, blah. He wanted chaos, he wanted violence, he wanted to do what that little runt was doing. Damn-it, he was promised that. "Fex, go on this mission and you'll get to destroy things." That's what they said to him, "destroy things." Not watch someone else destroy things while you play guard. Stupid idiot liars. If it wasn't for that damn Galaver waving that damn gun in his face every second, he'd be with that killing genius right now. Stupid Pythos.

Fex abandoned his rant and focused Dylan's eyes on the two guards. Two young stupid sub-betas. They could be fun to play with, Fex thought as images of pain danced through his mind. The right side of Dylan's mouth curled up into a cold harsh half smile as his eyes lit up with hope.

Real screams of pain suddenly shattered his dreams of screams of pain. The two Pythos were now hunched over, writhing in pain, covering their ears and screaming in agony. Besides their screeching, Fex/Dylan couldn't hear the sound that was the cause of their discomfort.

"W-W-What?" the confused Fex stuttered out in Dylan's surprised voice. How did his dreams become reality? 

The only reply to his question was more screaming and a metal-on-metal clink. Dylan's eyes quickly searched for the cause of the clink. His eyes locked onto the culprit and widened as the realization of what the object was smacked into his mind. A bomb!!! That psycho kid WAS gonna kill all his friends!

"SHIT!" flew out of Dylan's mouth as he quickly sprinted for the nearby closed doors of command. Screw the writhing screaming Pythos, everyman for himself, he thought as he was diving in-between the automatically opening doors. He dived and rolled into command just as the thick impenetrable doors hissed closed behind him.

******

Quick breath in, long breath out, quick breath in..."SHIT!...hiss...hiss" the sounds rushed in through the still cracked open hatch. Harper recognized that voice...Dylan. A part of Harper sank deeper as he heard the all to familiar voice knowing that his friend was not the one in command of the yell. Neither less, that yell and hisses were his cue. Still breathing in and out through his shriller, Harper swiftly grabbed his trusty knife from his blood coated boot with his only functional arm. He kicked the hatch wide open, spotted his writhing targets and dived into the start of his hopefully last battle.

New louder agonizing screams came from the strong vocal cords of the Pythos as the source of their pain was now within inched of their ears. Seconds later the screams abruptly turned into gurgles as Harper cut their jugulars letting deep rich crimson blood gush out of their throats. The crimson liquid flowed onto the instrument of their demise as well as coating the hand that welded that instrument. 

As the gurgles ceased and the corridor was once again silent, Harper let the metal whistle drop from his lips. Sick of the death he had been causing, the kludge didn't even linger to bask in the carnage filled scene he had just created. Instead, he focused his eyes on the ball shaped metal object that was glimmering in the lights in the corridor. His bomb. He quickly jumped off the bodies and ran over to his baby. He had no intention of using it on the three in the hall, it was too special to waste on them. It was his last bomb, the bomb that his whole plan centered on, it was his "Baby".

Crouching down on the ground next to Baby, he swung his bag around his body so he could access three of the smaller pockets. With his nimble right hand he retrieved the three substances he had taken from Med Deck in what seemed like a lifetime ago. Baby had three small compartments located on different sides of her. In turn, Harper opened up each compartment, poured one of the three substances into Baby and sealed up the compartment. Once done, he place the remaining chemicals back into their separate pockets in his Bag-O-Carnage. He looked down at Baby as she continued to shimmer in the light. Normally, he would have basked in her glow for a while, but now was no time for basking. Everyone on the other side of that door were expecting an explosion and would be getting suspicious if they didn't get one soon.

The beaten, exhausted, downcast human rushed to the door that everyone in his new adopted family was behind. His big sister, his big brother, his father-like uncle, and his best friend/cousin. He wanted to die when he thought of what he was going to have do to them. No time for pity, no time for emotions, not now. He shoved those feeling down into his cramped rusted box in his mind as his fingers flew over the control panel for the door. Within nano-seconds the door did as commanded and opened just wide enough to let Baby through. Harper expanded his ribs and took a deep haltingly shaky breath. At the apex of the breath, he rolled Baby into Command and quickly sealed up the door so that even his friend oxygen would not be able to leave. The breath escaped his lungs, passed through his dry aching throat, over his unusually motionless tongue and out past his cracked, bloody lips. He breathed again as he waited.

*******

Dylan/Fex dove and rolled his way into command. It was quite an entrance as the doors hissed closed behind him.

He found his voice soon enough and started yelling like a mad man. "The kid...the psycho...bomb...he's crazy!"

Galaver turned his attention to the raving lunatic. "What in Nietzsche's name are you yelling about and why the hell are you lying on my bridge floor and are not out guarding it?"

"The mudfoot...bomb...he IS gonna kill his friends...his IS a psycho!" Fex yelled in Dylan's voice. At this point, the real Dylan didn't know what to think. Was Harper really capable of killing them, his friends? Were we still even this mad man's friends? Who was this mad man? 

Beka/Velac stepped forward towards the hysterical Dylan-Fex hybrid who was now standing and jumping around waving his arms madly trying to jester the idea of an explosion to the clueless crew on command. "Calm down idiot and tell us what happened." Her tone was harsh, steady and demanded attention.

Fex took a deep breath and calmed himself. "We were just standing guard when all of the sudden the others started screaming in pain and grabbing at their ears. Then this bomb just fell out of the wall! That human has totally lost it!!" The hysteria was slowly infiltrating his voice again. 

"Are you sure it was a bomb? I mean, we haven't heard an explosion yet." Beka/Velac pointed out all too logically.

Dylan/Fex began ranting again. "Yes I'm sure it was a bomb! It was round, metal, smooth, small and....BOMB LOOKING!!! WHAT THE HELL ELSE....." Dylan/Fex stopped dead in his rant as he noticed the doors had opened a crack and the device that he had just described came rolling into command as if on cue. The doors then slammed shut and hissed as they were sealed tight. Air tight. 

Baby kept rolling. With all the wide eyes locked onto her, she made her way to the very middle of command and slowly rolled to a stop. Every lung on command expanded collectively in one great giant gasp.

TBC....


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: First a big thank you to all my reviewers. I love you guys!!!! Now I give you THE chapter. The nice gooey center in this angst filled treat. Enjoy!

Chapter 13  
  
The air in every lung on command was still stagnate as Baby finally did her thing. She let loose a blast of gas laden air that quickly dispersed throughout the room. The gas was the results of the three chemical compounds Harper feed Baby with just moments ago. Unlike all of Harper's other bomb, Baby was special in that she was non-lethal. The gas would just make anyone who inhaled it, to sleep, ironically, like a baby.   
  
As everyone's lungs began to ache for oxygen as they were forced to take a deep breath of the greenish gas that now enveloped command. Within seconds of that breath, bodies starting hitting the floor in a symphony of thuds. Into a blissful deep sleep they went.  
  
*******  
  
Outside of command, a lonely Harper counted the seconds as he waited. Thirty seconds. He took a deep breath. That was time enough for the gas to work even on Nietzschean physiology. Again, the wary engineer's hand danced over the door access panel as he hacked into life support to replace the gaseous air with nice healthy breathable air. He would be no help to anyone if he wound up passed out on the floor next to everyone else.  
  
His blood stained hand left the panel to grab the sticky blood coated handle of his knife. His Earth instincts made him urn for the feel of the leathery handle of his trusty knife rather than the cold metallic feel of his gauss gun. If Baby didn't work and he was about to face seventeen Pythos and his friends, a gun would do him just as much good as his knife. Plus, the weight of the small weapon comforted his raging nerves.  
  
With the knife in his only functional hand, he used his nimble fingers to punch in the codes to open the command doors and reveal the fate of all inside. Slowly the doors creaked open to reveal no sound, no gun blasts, no yelling. Harper let out the breath of air he had been holding. The doors grew farther apart to reveal the contents of command to the lone occupant in the hallway.  
  
Strewn all around the metallic floor, in every position possible, laid seventeen passed out Pythos and four fainted friends. Harper's shoulders rose as weights were air lifted off of them. His eyes locked onto the nearest Pythos as he made his way over to her prone body. He knelt down to take a closer look at her face. She was rather pretty, for a Pythos, about Beka's age, fine delicate features with silky smooth mocha colored skin.  
  
Harper, with a trembling filthy knife welding hand, reached out and placed his crimson stained blade against the sensitive skin on her neck. Slowly, he pressed the blade deeper into her skin as he watched with wonder as her deep red life force seeped out around the cold metallic surface of the blade. Harder he pressed as he dragged the weapon across the smooth delicate surface. A river of crimson flowed from her neck, onto the grated floor and dripped into the deep recesses below was created in the blade's wake.   
  
The boy's eyes were mesmerized by the river he had created as a slight spark could be seen growing behind his pupils. Without tearing his eyes away from his creation, he reached down, wrapped his fingers around her wrist, and placed two fingers on the soft vulnerable underside. No pulse. A small lopsided smile tried to force it's self onto his emotionally drained face.   
  
The mass murderer slowly stood up and locked his eyes on his next victim. He strolled over to the poor unfortunate soul and repeated the whole process anew. Even the small flicker of the lopsided smile repeated itself. He got up and repeated the process fourteen more times till all save one Pythos wore a river of blood around their throats. The last living Pythos was the unconscious but still humiliated Galaver. Harper wanted him for last. With much determination, the mudfoot made his way over to the sleeping cause of his current hellish situation. He glared down at the motionless form knowing that the mare fact that an injured kludge took out three thousand of his pride as well as himself was more than enough torture for the Alpha. Plus, he really didn't have time to play with him, so killing him in his sleep was just going to have to do. Kneeling down next to Galaver, Harper once more created a river of death. But this time, the murderer didn't get up immediately. Instead he stayed as he placed his blade onto the far side of Galaver's pale forehead. Slowly and maliciously, Harper started carving the flesh that resided there. After a few minutes of concentrated carving, Harper stood up and admired his work. Now on the dead Alpha's forehead there were four big bloody letters. Uber. The lopsided smile that had been fighting for presence on Harper's face this whole time finally made it's grand appearance.  
  
His bloodshot eyes finally left his last victim as they searched the now command-turned-morgue for the last remaining living beings. With great relief, he spotted all four of them. He had no time to reflect, no time to feel anything now. He was still fighting the clock of the Buzz and the clock was winning. Quickly, he snapped himself out of the killing trance and raced over to the still bodies of this friends, his family. He hurriedly checked their vitals and discovered they were no worse for ware. He took one last glance at the body's that were sprinkled over the command floor before he turned on his heels and began his sprinting marathon throughout the ship. Stop one was Medical.  
  
*******  
  
The image of himself trying to hoist Tyr's huge frame over his shoulder and carry the big lug to Medical kept Harper's sprits light at he weaved his way around the burnt crisps of bodies that littered every corridor in Andromeda. His boot splashed in a puddle of Pytho as he repeated to himself, "Gurneys, must get gurneys." He was trying everything to keep himself from taking in the carnage that surrounded him and the thought of the clean up job that was ahead of them. Them. Would there every truly be a Them again after his friends saw what he created? He should start packing his bags now. No, Medical first, then pack, he thought as a crisp burnt hand crunched under his racing boot.  
  
The doors to Medical flew open as Harper flew in gasping for air. He tried desperately to ignore the burning in his lungs and the aching of his still mending broken ribs. The gasping engineer spotted the gurneys and grabbed one along with some powerful sedatives. He didn't want anyone waking up until he wanted them conscious. With sedatives in pocket and gurney being pushed in front of him, he continued his race back up to command where his friends awaited him.  
  
One by one, he exhaustedly transported them down to Medical, kicking any corpse that was his way to the side. The injury to his arm was slowing down the process and causing Harper great pain every time he tried to use the misshapen limb. After much cursing and gasping for air, he had all four drugged up and strapped to beds in Medical. They shouldn't wake up for at least a day and incase they did Harper had a little homemade gadget that would help. Each prone body had a small electronic device attacked to their neck which would alert Harper through his data pad if they showed any signs of waking. The genius engineer didn't have the luxury to be by their sides, he still had a AI to bring back up and an android to fix. He couldn't stand to be without backup a minute longer, he needed Rommie more than life itself. But first, his twitchy instincts were screaming at him to get Andromeda's ass out of this area of space and somewhere safe. So his marathon continued as he race off to the engine room as he still hurdled corpse after corpse.  
  
The doors hissed open as Harper skidded on top of the three day old organs that still littered the area outside of his first bombing site. He wasn't prepared for the wave of noxious air that came flooding out of the engine room. A stench of death and decay filled his nostrils as he doubled over trying to empty his already empty stomach. Waves of wrenching pain ripped through his body as his stomach became violently ill.   
  
Finally, his stomach yielded to the fact that wrenching it's self was not helping. Slowly he straighten his aching body back upright and took at look at carnage he created. The scene was horrendous. Three day old rotting body parts still dripped off the ceiling and made sickening splashes as they landed in decaying puddles of organs and bones. The new paint job of crimson red was giving off it's own metallic stench, a sort of aromatherapy paint for psychopaths.  
  
Luckily, the work Harper had to do on the engines would only take an half-hour at the most. He tried to hold his breath and his stomach the whole time, but he failed at both attempts. Within twenty minutes, after a few literal gut wrenching breaks, the vital engine parts were back where they belonged and both slipstream and regular engines were back online. The second the engines were up and functional, Harper was out the door, fleeing from the room of horrors he had only days ago so proudly created. He pumped his aching numb legs back to Medical to grab his faithful gurney and raced back up to Command where one last crew member was still laying in wait for his help.   
  
Reaching command, he shoved the gurney aside and raced over to the piloting station. His last patient would have to wait while he got their collective asses somewhere safer. He commanded the slipstream piloting station to drop down and encase him. Quickly he realized his left arm was going to have to help pilot. Gingerly he used his right arm to place his mangled arm in position. He struggled to wrap his weak fingers around the slipstream handle. Intense pain radiate up his arm with every slight movement. "This ought to be just lovely," he grunted thought clenched teeth.  
  
He active the slipstream drive and let Andromeda be sucked into the stream. Andromeda bounced around the stream like a popcorn popping in a bag. With the mangled arm, Harper was barely able to pilot. The steam was playing with them, dragging them along wherever it pleased. After an hour of sweat and curses, an exhausted Harper managed to get them out of slipstream and to their destination. A nice quiet out-of-the-way asteroid belt. Harper punched up auto pilot and sent Andromeda to camouflage herself within the nice collection of large space rocks.  
  
He retracted the slipstream piloting console and pushed his weary body away from the station. Oh how he wanted to rest, to sleep, to eat. True, he wasn't hungry thanks to Buzz, but he wanted to enjoy the simple pleasure of chewing and swallowing food. It didn't even have to taste good, he just wanted to eat. But he couldn't give into any simple pleasure, not yet anyways. He was still running his marathon.  
  
Again, he forced his trembling legs to race over to an access panel in the back of command. His heart skipped a beat as his mind realized how close he was to what was behind that small door. His shaking hand punched in the code and the door slid open. Real happy light sparkled from Harper's eyes as a smile and a frown fought for control of his face. Inside the opening of the conduit laid the burned out body of Rommie.  
  
He had located her when he located the others with the program he downloaded into his data pad. Rommie's marker on the pad was a silver heart. A sliver heart that laid motionless inside this conduit for the whole three days. When he was feeling down, he would bring up her location and just stare longingly at that glowing sliver heart. His Rommie.   
  
He had to tear his watering eyes off of his creation to grab the earlier discarded gurney. He placed her limp body onto the smooth metallic surface and quickly gave her a once over. Andromeda had been correct when she said all of Rommie's circuits were fried, but she was also wrong, very wrong on the other part. He could fix her! For the first time since this whole fiasco had begun, a true smile of joy lit up Harper's filthy face. It wasn't a cruel cold smile or a smile mixed with sadness, but a real glowing smile. In a short time he would have his Rommie back and Andromeda's AI back online. Two down, four to go.  
  
His momentarily happy thoughts turned to the four still laying unconscious in Medical. "No, no time for celebration now," he whispered to himself as the smile fell and was replaced by the grim exhausted look he was so used to wearing by now. And he was off again.  
  
He raced Rommie down to the AI computer core. Why not kill two birds with one stone, he thought. Well, it was really more like bringing back two birds by throwing two stones at the same time, but the former just sounded so much better.   
  
His legs were barely holding him up as he raced to the AI core. He was keeping most of his weight on the gurney as he pushed himself and Rommie up to the doors of their destination. He pushed the burden laden gurney up near to the area he was going work on the AI core. Harper began doing what Harper does best, fix things. For hours his hand and tools danced over the inner workings of the AI core computer as well as Rommie's inner workings. Fix AI's rewiring, replace one of Rommie's burn circuits. For hours he juggled the two complicated repair jobs with only marginal support from his left hand. Anyone watching this feat of engineering genius would have been in awestruck by Harper's skills. Unfortunately for Harper, no one was watching.   
  
For hours he stared at wires and circuits and computer chips. For hours he endured hundreds of minor electrical shocks to his already numb bleeding fingers. For hours his heart and mind raced trying to finish the repairs before his Buzz clock went off., but still he was too slow.  
  
He had raced against himself and had lost. His hands were shaking more and more by the minute. He was almost done with the repairs, but he could feel the monster of withdrawal breathing down his cold clammy neck. He had known from the beginning that this time would come, that this decision was going to have to be made, but that knowledge didn't help calm his racing heart right now.  
  
Reluctantly, he reached his trembling hand down to his pant's pocket to where the two remaining green pills had been stashed. He pulled out bag and dumped the contents on the closest surface. He watched with horror as the small round pills danced around on the table begging him to take them. It wasn't the drug, but the situation that was really begging him to reach down and take the Buzz. He had two choices. One, don't take another pill, go into withdrawal, be forced to abandon his friends and quite possibly die alone in a conduit. Or, two, he could take the second pill, hopefully save his friends and the ship, then go into withdrawal and more likely die alone in a conduit. The choice was obvious.  
  
Harper reached out and struggled to grab the tiny object with his trembling hand. While struggling with his own body, Harper's mind recalled stories of the poor souls who did take more than one dose of Buzz. They weren't pretty stories, though most stories from Earth weren't pretty. Like all Buzz users, while they were on the drug they were fine, but coming off of multiple douses would enhance the already nasty symptoms. The paranoia and all the physical sides effects were unbearable, he had heard. One story went that a guy took two douses of Buzz, just like Harper was about to do, and in the withdrawal state he thought his wife and two little girls were ubers. He slit their throats and raped their still writhing corpses. Luckily for the man, the withdrawal was merciful and killed him. He wouldn't have to live with the knowledge of what he had done. He was at peace with his family. Harper only hoped to be so lucky.   
  
The little green drug was now securely between his fingers and was on it's way to his mouth. He tightly clenched his eyes closed as he shoved the pill under his tongue. He felt it dissolved. Seconds later he felt the shakes and increasing sense of fear getting pushed away. His thoughts were becoming clearer again but his body still felt the horrors of all it had been through over the past four, five or six days. Harper had lost count.  
  
Now calm and steady, Harper made quick work of finishing the repairs. After a few more hours of finger dancing, his work there was done. The AI was rebooting and Rommie was being powered back up. About five hours later, Andromeda would be back online and Rommie would be up and running. Harper could do no more for his women so he turned and slowly headed out the door. If only the next part of his plan would be so easy and painless.  
  
*****  
  
Bliss, sweet nothingness bliss. Dylan, Beka, Trance and Tyr were in heavenly bliss. The gas and sedatives sent everyone to the sweet void of unconscious. No longer did Beka have to see the horrors of her life. She was surrounded by peaceful nothingness. Tyr and Dylan no longer struggled within their own body. And Trance no longer had to watch her friends live in agony. The Calastors were just as unconscious as the crew were and could cause them no more pain in this state. All eight beings just floated helplessly in their sweet dark void blissfully unaware of what their futures held.  
  
*****  
  
Seamus Harper did not sprint his way back to Medical. He didn't even run. He walked slowly, struggling with each step. He didn't notice the blacken fragile limbs he stepped on, nor did he notice the stench rising out of the random piles of unrecognizable body parts. He just walked, consciously forcing each foot forward. A blank dead stare filled his dirty bruised face.  
  
His eyes gazed down the long corridor that was ahead of him. But he didn't see the corpse ridden hallway, instead he saw his friends, his family. He remembered them before this hell of an adventure broke out. Beka's contagious laugh, Trance's smile that could light up any room, Dylan's supportive voice, and even Tyr's playful growling. Then he remembered them during the hellish adventure. Beka's screaming how worthless he was as her boot cracked another rib, Trance's warm breath breathing down his neck as she held him while he was beaten, Dylan's cruel laughter as Harper cried out for help, and Tyr grinning in glory as he heard Harper's nose break under the force of his punch. Lastly, his mind was filled with visions of the peaceful sleeping friends that laid in Medical, his current destination.  
  
Slowly and painfully he turned the last corner as his eyes fell onto the doors of Medical. He just stood in place, unable to force his legs forward. Finally, a trembling left leg stepped forward. With one slow step at a time, he made his way to the door...to his family.   
  
He stood still facing the doors, trembling like a leaf on a windy day. His bloodshot eyes were glazed over as tears tried to force their way from his ducts. Again his mind flashed back to his friends. One friend in particular, Trance and what she had said four days ago and the sentence that had been dancing through his head since he had heard her scream it.   
  
"H-Have to...can't keep Nixic at bay.... pain... makes... them... weakkkkkaaaagggghhh..." This one sentence is what Harper's whole plan, on how to get his friends back, was based on. That one freakn' sentence. He doubted if it would work, but it was all he could come up with. All his brilliant mind, his high IQ, his thousands of thoughts a second could come up with.  
  
His head dropped as he forced him mind to go over his "brilliant" plan. Force the intruders out by putting his friend's bodies in so much pain that the aliens would choose to die rather than to endure any more pain. In short, Harper was going to have to use all the torture techniques he'd learned in his year in the Pythos' recreation center on his friends...on his family...on the only people alive that he still loved in this universe. This is his genius plan, this is everyone's only hope, and this is what now had Harper curled up outside of Medical, in a fetal position, as his body was wrenched with sobs and as a quite mantra of "no, can't do it" crept out of his mouth.  
  
TBC...

****


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: As always, I wanna give a big THANKS out to my reviewer. You guys make me wanna keep writing. That and my insatiable urge for angst. 

Also, someone asked where Rev was. Answer, this takes place after he left the crew in the second season. Let's just say this story takes place before the last episode on season two. So ignore all of freaky weird season three. How's that work? Ok, enough rambling, go enjoy the angst!

Chapter 14

Sobs still wracked through Harper's aching body as he felt the cool metal of the door on his arched back. A quite whisper of "no" kept slipping from his quivering lips as tears raced down his face, all hoping to be the first ones to fall off of this tortured creature. Breaths only escaped in convulsion-like movements which sent waves of pain from the still healing broken ribs. 

Inside the weeping creature's mind, the battle for control raged on. Harper's mental self was feverishly chasing down all the loose emotions: self-doubt, self-loathing, despair, paranoia, loneliness and massive amounts of fears. He ran after the emotions-made-real, captured them and shoved them in his new larger, stronger, black box. This one had a triple lock on it and reinforced walls. It was a good buy. 

One by one, he shoved the feelings down into the void of the box. He kicked down despair, whacked loneliness over the head, and smashed self-loathing's desperate hand into the box as he slammed the heavy lid close. The second the locks clicked, the sobs stopped instantaneously.

Harper's head lifted off of his knees. A blank expression filled his face and a deep void filled his eyes. Slowly he stood up on trembling legs and reached an equally trembling hand out to the door controls. The hiss from the door opening sounded like thunder echoing through his ears. Zombie-like, Harper entered Medical to begin his work.

The void of a human first put so many overrides on the doors that even Andromeda herself could not enter. Next, he reached into his blood coated Bag-O-Carnage that still hung around his chest. That bag had become part of him over the past few days. Only when he had to crawl through the smallest area did he take the bag off, even then it was still griped in his hand. He reached into his pouch, pulled out a small device, and attached it to his belt. This was one of the random gadgets he had made earlier. It would surround it's wearer in a protective energy field that the energy based life forms couldn't pass through. Harper pulled out four more of these devices from his bag, one for each of his friends, and placed them on a nearby counter. 

Harper yanked his trustful bag off of his weary shoulder and threw it against the wall where it hit with a thud and crumpled to the ground like an old discarded favorite childhood toy. Harper felt naked without the weight of the bag, but part of him never wanted to see the Bag-O-Carnage again.

The bag-less Harper now got down to business. He ransacked Medical, grabbing various instruments, chemicals and other assorted items from the copious cabinets. He grabbed a cold metal tray and started putting together his Tray-O-Torture. Right now he would have preferred his Bag-O-Carnage. He continued to throw more items onto the tray which laid on top of a cart. Electrical stimulants, poisons, micron-sharp surgical blades, and even a dental laser drill landed with a clink onto the cart. The hairs on the back of Harper's neck stood even straighter with each clink. He added an extra lock onto his big black box in his mind.

Soon the clattering stopped and the tray was complete. Harper stared at his collection of pain. He had to do this, he reminded himself. Quickly, as to get the whole thing over with, he grabbed the cart with his still only functioning hand and started pushing it towards his first friend...he meant, victim.

Tyr.

******

Andromeda's systems slowly filled with information, data strings and life as more and more of the AI once again took her place in the vast computer of a ship. Only a few more hours to go until life once more flowed through her impressive circuits.

******

Harper's cold blue eyes stared down at Tyr's closed eyes. No muscles were tense on the Kodiak's face, no fear could be seen anywhere on his body. He was in a deep bliss, completely unaware of the pain that was about to enter his life.

The blue eyes broke off of the body in front of him as he searched for a syringe on his tray. Once he found it, he moved decisively and injected the larger man. The plan had begun, it was too late to back out now. By the time the syringe was back on the tray, Tyr's eyelids had shot open to revile the shocked dark brown eyes. A second later, rage replaced the fear as realization hit the brain. Stolic tried to order Tyr to move, to kill the human, but he could not. The child had restrained them. The same child who now stood over them, staring at them with the coldest eyes either had ever seen. For a nanosecond, fear once again flickered across those brown eyes, even though Tyr nor Stolic would ever admit it. 

Mixed with fear for himself, Tyr also felt fear for the boy. That was not the same Harper he had known. There was no smirk on his dirty face, no sparkle in his sunken eyes and even less color in his already normally pale cheeks. Fear for Harper quickly turned back into fear for the mighty Nietzschean. He had no idea why the psycho had him strapped to a bed in Medical and why he was looking at him with such despaired filled eyes. Tyr forced Stolic to struggle harder against the restraints.

Stolic was glad to oblige Tyr's request and struggle he did, but the metal restraints were just too strong. Unable to strangle the boy, Stolic resorted to yelling at him. "I am Nephew to the Ruler of the Calastors! How dear you treat me like this!! Un-strap me now so I can show you great pain!" 

Tyr shook his non-corporal head at the alien's reasoning. Oh, the idiocy that spreads through the universe.

But Harper barely heard the words. His mind was locked onto Tyr's body as his only working hand hovered over the tray. "That's not Tyr," he whispered under his breath as his hand neared the dental drill.

"What did you say?" Stolic asked though Tyr's annoyed angry voice. "This IS Tyr you silly boy. And you can't hurt Tyr, so just let us up from the table so I CAN KILL YOU SLOWLY!!!!" The veins on Tyr's neck became writhing snakes as his blood pumped up to his increasingly redder face.

"That's not Try," Harper repeated louder this time as his hand felt the cool metal handle to the drill. He brought the device up in front of Tyr's face and yelled "YOU'RE NOT TYR!" Quickly, he activated the laser drill and placed in near Tyr's temple. 

Stolic's words had been whisked from his mouth as his eyes had become huge. The kid was completely psychotic. Both Tyr and Stolic could feel the heat from the laser on their collective temple. Slowly it was getting hotter and hotter, then suddenly it stopped and a scream filled their collective ears.

"NOOOO!" yelled Harper as the drill fell from his hand as he reached for his temples. Gripping his head tightly he hunched over and started to tremble so hard that it looked like convulsions to Tyr. What the hell was wrong with that boy, Try questioned himself.

Memories were what were wrong with Harper. Memories of the hum of the drill, of the warmth he felt radiating from it. Memories of the intense pain a certain Pytho had caused with that type of drill on his temples. The thought that he was about to share the pain with Tyr made him scream even louder. 

"GO AWAY!!!" the human yelled as his inner self kicked and shoved the ragging memories into the dark chest. He slammed the heavy lid close and reinforced the box with one more layer of denial. 

Again, the instant the box was closed, the pain was erased from his face and the blank stare returned. He picked up the drill that had landed on the floor, stood back up and faced his torture victim.

A wordless Harper activated the drill again and started where he left off before he was so rudely interrupted. As the heat increased, Stolic became too scared for words. When the emotionless face had first reappeared from beneath the table, a cold chill had ran up his adopted spine. The engineer had lost it and was quite willing to cause his friends pain. This turn of events was bad, very bad. This meant none of the Calastors were safe and that for the first time in Stolic's life, he would not get what he wanted. 

As the heat on his temple increased, Tyr had to finally admit that he was actually scared, quite scared. He had no idea of what Harper was capable of in this condition and sad to say, but Harper was his only chance of survival. Tyr really, really hoped that the genius had some plan here, because if not, he was going to have to kill the little psychopath. 

Harper stared at the drill as it closed in on the soft mocha skin of Tyr's temple. "Not Tyr, not Tyr, not Tyr," he whispered to himself to block out the screams of pain that were beginning to escape Tyr's mouth.

The screams grew louder and louder until they could even be heard corridors away.

*****

Rommie's eyes shifted back and forth under her artificial lids. Her system was slowly coming back to life. In a few hours, the ship made flesh would be up and roaming the corridors of her home once more.

*****

Terrifying screams filled Tyr's ears. Screams of pain, screams of great agony, screams that he soon realized were coming out of his own throat. Were they his screams or Stolic's screams...or both? They should have passed out by now, into sweet unconscious bliss, but the heat from the laser was still vivid in his mind. It would appear that the little professor had injected him with a drug to keep him from passing out. Tyr could even feel the battle between the chemical and the urge to pass out ragging throughout his body. Out of the corner of his eye, he could still see the blank expression of their torturer, Harper. If, no, when Tyr survived this, Harper was going to experience the full furry of an enraged Kodiak. He would enjoy watching the boy beg for his own death. 

A fresh scream escaped Tyr's now dried lips as the laser hit a new nerve. Fire ripped through his brain and continued to tingle throughout his entire body. To make matters worse, Tyr could also feel Stolic's pain. True, it gave him a small pleasure to feel the intruder in pain, but in also meant that his own pain was doubled. What should have been a pin prick now became a massive stabbing sensation. The universe wasn't all bad in that Stolic could still block Tyr's pain so there was no expediential increasing cycle of pain between the two beings. Curse the universe and it's sick sense of kindness.

Kindness that it now showed itself as Harper finally stopped the drill. His emotionless face stared down at the writhing body waiting for something, for some sign.

The pair locked within one body felt the intense heat from the laser disperse. Some residual pain was still present, but the severe pain was now lifting. Tyr's mind was clearing and a massive realization was knocking on the door to his brain. He opened the door and discovered that the horrible sick screams belonged to him, Tyr Anasazi out of Victoria by Barbarosa. Not just in voice but in mind. As the pain was lifting, he could feel Stolic getting stronger and regaining control. That little sick genius DID have a plan! Pain weakened the alien's control on the bodies, but how to permanently expel the invaders was still a mystery to Tyr. 

Stolic was quickly regaining control as Harper continued to look for his sign. Tyr saw the yearning in the boy's eyes and knew that Harper needed a sign to tell him that it was working and that he should go on. Tyr was going to give him that sign. 

Tyr grabbed hold of Stolic's presence and struggled to push him back down long enough to give Harper what he was waiting for. He struggled past Stolic and ordered his tongue to obey his commands. "H-H-Harper...k-keep...go..g-going...." Tyr was surprised at the hoarseness of his own voice. 

Harper's empty eyes widened as Tyr's words reached his ears. For the past few minutes he had been watching with hope as electricity dance across Tyr's eyes as Stolic and Tyr battled for the body. He had been keeping track of the current owner and it was HIS Tyr that had just spoke. A tiny spark lit deep behind his eyes.

Even through the fierce battle ragging inside himself, Tyr did see the recognition in Harper's eyes. That's my boy!, he thought. Wanting to give the engineer a bit more hope to go on, Try fought once more to control his own mouth, "I-I-I....un..understand.......h-h-hurt...m-m-me....." Tyr smiled deep inside as the spark of hope grew brighter behind the boy's eyes. The spark was now joining the two tortured souls, but all this hope was making Stolic rather sick to his stomach. He violently pushed Try down deep within himself and took back the body his Aunt, the Ruler, had given to him.

Harper noticed the now cold harsh eyes that no longer danced with electricity. Tyr was gone which meant Harper was once again alone. 

The still rough hoarse voice spoke but this time there was no sense of struggle behind the words. "Silly human, your friend is lost and I am back in control. He will never overcome me no matter how much pain you put us thought. And may I say that he really is hurting here, and all thanks to you." A sick grin grew on the familiar face.

With Tyr's understanding and permission, Harper finally found his voice again. "Oh, I never expected him to take control back from you. I expect that once I'm done with here, you will be more than willing to leave on your own accord. Now, let me show you something else I learned from spending my time with the Pythos." Harper gave an intimating smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and held up the micron sharp surgical knife which shimmered under the bright lights of Medical.

"Ha! A itty bitty knife does scare me!" Stolic shouted behind a shield of false bravado. Tyr could feel what the stupid young lad was really feeling. Fear. Fear of pain that he had never experienced before. Luckily for Tyr, he had experienced this type of pain before, he had lived through it and survived. And that was exactly what he planned on doing this time. 

Do it now Master Harper, Tyr encouraged from beyond his void. As if reading his mind, Harper's began to move the shinning scalpel closer to Tyr as the tiny young sparkle died out behind his now empty blue eyes.

Once more, deep screams of agony could be heard corridors away.

TBC....


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: As always, thank you reviewers!! Here's the next part, I hope you'll be needing some tissues.

Enjoy!

Chapter 15

Rommie blinked. A blurry empty world filled her visual and neural pathways. Panic raced through her circuit as she realized the reason for the emptiness. She was alone, cut off from the main A.I. Her systems were so quiet, so empty without the connection to her bigger self. Suddenly her quiet system roared into gear as memories came rushing back. Memories of Harper turning her on for the first time, memories of meeting Dylan in the flesh, memories of her first love, her first lost, and then, lastly memories of the energy wave.

Her newly repaired body bolted up from it's prone position to standing in a nano-second flat. Her processors were doing overtime trying to put together the pieces. Where was the crew? Where was the main A.I.? What was that energy wave? Too many questions with no answers. The android did not like having unanswered questions.

Then she felt it. She felt the data strings begin to file into her all too empty system. She felt the main A.I. coming back online. Relief filled her, she was not alone. As to reinforce this feeling, Holo-Rommie shimmered herself into existence in front of the prodigal little sister.

"Are you ok?" the trick of light asked.

"Yes, all systems are functional. How's the main systems and what the heck happened? The last thing I remember is that energy wave." Rommie asked as she started to pace the confined space of the main computer core.

"All systems are nominal. Main memory banks are missing six days. The last thing I remember was telling Harper he was our only chance." 

A look of horror passed over Rommie's face. "Harper!? Our only chance? What...why... what happened?" Rommie shuddered.

"The energy wave seemed to invade the crew's mind and take them over, all save Harper. He was interfacing with us, I think that's what protected him, but his data port was severely burned." Andromeda secretly hoped it wasn't permanently damaged. As much as Harper got on her nerves, she really did enjoy his presence in her matrix. "I remember waking him and apprising him of the situation and then felt all my systems getting cut off. Then nothing."

Rommie was still walking the path of the frustrated and confused, back and forth, back and forth. "So where is everyone now? And how did we get back online?"

The hologram shimmering got stronger as she gathered the requested data. Her mirages of eyes widened in shock. "You have to get to medical NOW!"

That stopped Rommie dead in her tracks. "Why?"

"There are thousands of Nietzschean corpses throughout the ship. Harper has our crew strapped to medical beds and is in the process of torturing Tyr! Go! I'll try to stall him." With that, Holo-Rommie shimmered out of existence.

Just as fast, Rommie turned and raced toward the door. "Grrr.. What I wouldn't give for a nice boring simple mission for once," she growled as she dashed towards medical

******

Harper dug the super sharp scalpel deeper into Tyr's muscular chest until he hear the right response from his victim.

"Arrgghh!" screamed the Tyr-Stolic combo. The cry ripped from the Kodiak's already rough dry throat.

That was the response the human was looking for, but unfortunately his mind responded to the response. Memories pounded at the lid of the box in his mind. The lid was slowly starting to give way. Quickly, Harper started to jump on the lid, forcing it down and with it all the unwelcomed memories his cutting Tyr was bring up. As his mental self continued to fight with the troublesome box, his real self was having a nice conversation with his torture victim. 

"Are you still there Stolic? Are you still enjoying the experience of pain? You know you can leave at anytime and the pain will end. Come on, you know you want the pain to stop," Harper's body spoke. His mind wasn't saying those things. His mind had left that horrible person below. That horrible person who was torturing his friends just so he wouldn't be alone. His mind was watching from above, completely detached from that monster below.

"S...S...Still ....t....t...there..." Tyr managed to sputter out through the pain. He had to give the boy credit. Somehow the child had become a master torturer, but the powerful Nietzschean was quite afraid to find out the source of the boy's surprising skill.

Harper looked down at the trembling form that laid in front of him. Small deep inch long cuts covered half of Tyr's powerful body. His soft temples were covered in small deep perfectly circular burns. A deep sigh left Harper's lungs. Damn-it, he didn't want to use the other techniques he knew, the more painful ones, the more damaging ones. But Stolic was stubborn and wouldn't leave easily. It looked like it was back to the Tray-O-Torture.

He place the bloodied surgical knife down and picked up a brown bottle with a dropper on top. The mystery bottle contained hydrochloric acid. His mind quickly flashed back to his 16th birthday. After his present of two thousand cuts, instead of cake they gave him a drop of acid inside each of the fresh cuts. His present day body shuddered as he remembered the pain, the unbearable pain that filled his body with each tiny drop. Once more he shoved the memories into the box. Tyr, must focus on Tyr, he forced himself to think.

Tyr noticed the shudder that ran through the boy's body as he picked up the brown bottle. He heard the child's heart rate double and smelled scent of fear that permeated the air. Harper's regret-filled eye's locked onto Tyr's pain-filled eyes. "I'm sorry Tyr," the boy whispered. Even at the low level of the voice, Tyr heard everything. All the regret, all the pain from the past, all sorrow of the present. Come on boy, you can do it, Tyr silently encouraged with mixed emotions. He desperately wanted Stolic to be gone, but the pain was getting to him. He wanted rest, he wanted the boy to stop. Tyr tried to shove those weak thoughts aside and focus on what needed to be done for his survival. Where there's life there's hope, Tyr began to repeat to himself readying himself for the next round of playtime with Harper.

The kludge took the dropper out of the bottle and began to share a page of his past with Stolic and Tyr. He took aim at the first cut and dropped his bomb of acid.

"Enjoy the pain," Harper said as his stomach did flips of disgust. That was what one of the many ubers who tortured him had said. He had become a freak'n uber! One more thought to shove deep into the box. 

With each drop, the screams became harsher and louder. Begging eventually slipped from Try's lips and mind. He didn't mean to beg Harper to stop, he wanted to cheer the boy on but his subconscious took over and begged for the pain to end. Luckily the boy only cringed at the Kodiak's cries for mercy and continued dripping the little droplets of pain..

Drop, scream, drop, scream, drop, scream.."HARPER!!" The familiar voice broke the rhythm of pain. A familiar soft but powerful voice, the voice of Andromeda.

"Andromeda go away," Harper hissed quickly.

"Harper what are you doing!?" the computer demanded as Holo-Rommie shimmered into existence in front of Harper. The engineer was quite a site. He was a shell of his normal happy-go-lucky self. What the hell happened in those six days, the computer questioned herself.

"Go away," the shell of man demanded with more force this time. He was in no mood to explain his idiotic plan to anyone right now. "Privacy mode, Harper Special, Alpha Delta Four," he ordered. The hologram blinked out of the room with a look of annoyance filling her face just as she vanished. No one could override a Harper Special, not even the ship herself.

Harper returned his attention to his trembling victim. "Do you want to leave my friend now?" he asked.

"Never you sick human! Do you know how much pain your causing your so called friend? Do you!?" Stolic spat out in fear with Tyr's hoarse deep voice.

"Yes I do and I don't care," Harper lied. "So...do you wanna reconsider your decision and leave now, or do you wanna go another round with Mr. Hydrochloric Acid?" he asked as he waved the bottle in front of Tyr's widening eyes.

Those eyes quickly turned into eyes filled with determination. The Nephew of the Ruler was not going to give in that easily! "Give me your best, you psycho!" he snarled.

"Fine," Harper replied coldly as he drew more acid up into the eyedropper.

*****

After minutes of hurdling the sickening corpse that littered her entire interior, Rommie finally reached medical. She was currently desperately trying to by-pass all of Harper's amazingly complex overrides when she heard a sound she never thought she would hear.

Tyr screaming, and a blood curdling agonizing scream at that. It sounded as if his throat should be raw and bleeding after creating such a shriek. Goosebumps rose from Rommie's artificial skin. Damn Harper for making her so human.

More screams filled the air as she punched to unmoving door. Even with her powerful strength the door wasn't even kind enough to respond with a small dent. "OPEN THE DOOR HARPER!!" She yelled as all other options disintegrated. Only more terrifying screams of Tyr begging for the engineer to stop answered her demand. If Rommie was a cartoon, steam would be bellowing out of her ears.

Punching the indestructible door one more time, she then spun around and started processing the situation. She couldn't override Harper's override, she couldn't knock down the titanium door and she couldn't stop Tyr's pain.

As Rommie once more began to pace the corridor, Holo-Rommie shimmered into view. "We've uncovered the ship's recordings from the past six days," the hologram stated with a very ominous look filling her fine features.

Rommie's feet stopped as her head shot up to look at the concerned hologram. "What happened?"

"You have to see it to believe it. Downloading the data to your systems now." 

Rommie's eyes widened as the video feed started playing in her computerized mind. "Holy Shit..."

******

With each miniscule drop of acid that landed in one of Tyr's many deep tiny cuts, a new wave of agony tore through both Tyr and Stolic's mind and shared body. Screams still ripped from Tyr's raw throat. Begs still escaped his dry cracked lips. Tyr tried desperately to block out the pain with his mantra, "Where there's life there's hope", but with each pause in between words, the pain managed to seep in and invade his concentration. But still the stubborn Nietzschean continued to mentally chant; "Where there's life there's hope, Where there's life there's hope, Where there's life there's hope....."

The young weak Stolic was less fortunate for he had no chant, no inner strength to call upon. No way to block out the constant barrage of agonizing pain. For the first time in his life, he had no special treatment, no powerful Aunt to help him, no royal assistance. All he had was darkness and never-ending pain.

Above the two trapped tortured being watched a haunted Harper. Just like when he was tortured, Harper had left his mortal body behind. He was floating above the gruesome scene, staring at his own body as it slowly and maliciously drip more acid into one of the small gapping inflamed wounds. Above the pain he floated and watched as his body was slowly killing his friend.

******

Harper begging Dylan to stop punching him, thousands of Pythos marching onto her pristine decks, then explosions, dead smoldering bodies hitting the decks, more explosions as brains hit the ceilings, faces melting, a sick smiling Harper, more death, more explosions, Harper carving "uber" into a forehead, crew getting strapped down in medical, Harper placing a small green pill in his mouth, Tyr crying out for help.... Then the file ends with Rommie outside of medical, right back where she started.

If it was possible, Rommie's jaw would be laying on the floor right now. It was unbelievable what had conspired over the past six days. Her whole life, her whole crew, everything had been completely turned upside down and then shaken for good measure. Oddly enough, her processors kept focusing on how she was going to clean up all the decaying bodies from her decks.

Shaking the trivial thought from her head, she tried to focus on the real problems at hand. What the heck was Harper doing to the others and how could she get into the sealed up medical room to stop him. In order to feel somewhat useful, she went back to trying to crack Harper's override on the door. Note to self: Next time get a dumber engineer.

As the ship made flesh worked on the door, the A.I. was trying to figure out what drug was in Harper's system. Before he engaged his special privacy mode, she had gotten good readings on all the crew. Besides still having the alien energy readings, Dylan, Beka and Trance seemed to be fine physically. Trance did seem to have a gun shot wound to her leg, but as normal with Trance, it seemed to be healing over at an impossible rate. Tyr, even with the torture, seemed to be in good shape. It seemed like Harper was purposefully trying not to permanently harm Tyr's body but only cause him pain. Andromeda sent this information to a separate area of her matrix to be processed further. Harper, the only one standing, was ironically in the worst shape. Whatever drug he was on was the only thing that kept him upright. Between the shattered arm, the burned data port, the slight fever he was running, plus the fact that his metabolism was off the chart, his blood pressure was dangerously high and his heart was imitating that of a old Earth humming bird, the human should have been passed out on the beds next to the others. But there he was, standing and torturing Tyr. Unfortunately, none of the drugs in her database matched the mixture of chemicals that raced through his blood stream. The great and powerful warship had no idea what he had taken, why, and what he was doing. This many unanswered questions made the all knowing warship quite cranky.

******

"Come on Stolic, I know you want to leave that painful body."

Drop. Scream. Begging.

"Leave Tyr and the pain will end. I promise."

Drop. Scream. Crying.

"I got thousands more techniques I've picked up along my travels."

Drop. Scream. Begging.

"You've just experienced the warm-up procedures. Don't make me move up to the real torture devices."

Drop. Scream. Crying.

"So just leave Tyr and your pain will end."

Silence.

Harper sighed. "Fine, just let me finish up with your cuts. We only have about twenty more to go, then I'll show you what I can do with electricity and water."

As Harper compressed the soft end of the dropper, a perfect droplet of acid formed at the other end. Tyr and Stolic watched with trepidation as the acid slowly fell from it's home, through the air and finally landed deep inside a cut the boy had pried open with his crippled hand.

Pain once more tore through their collective souls. For twelve hours they had known only pain, agony and more pain. For twelve hours Stolic wished for the pain to end. For twelve hours he had fought the urge to leave this pathetic corporal form and enter the infinite expanse of space and death. He knew if he left Tyr's body, he would die. His energy form would slowly dissipate throughout space and his essence would eventfully be lost. As the new wave of agony washed over his mind once more, Stolic decided death was now preferable. 

Without a word, Stolic began to leave Tyr's writhing body behind.

At first, all Harper saw was the familiar dance of electricity shimmer across Tyr's deep brown eyes, but this time what followed brought a small flicker of hope to Harper's heart. The electricity slowly rose from the eyes, forming a cloud of shimmering energy that danced in flowing ribbons around medical. The flowing energy engulfed Harper. He could feel the desperation in Stolic's being, the fear of the unknown, the fear of death. Next frustrations surrounded Harper as the energy being realized that the engineer's shielding devise would not let him take the human. 

Who would want that skinny short pathetic body anyways, Stolic tried to make himself believe. But this was it. The great Nephew was taken down by a weak corporal being. How humiliating. Soon the pain of humiliation was replaced with the now familiar feeling of all encompassing agony as his energetic essence was dissipating throughout the ship. He was being ripped apart by the same chaotic forces that had ruled his nature. Oh the irony.

Stolic gave one last powerful shriek that shattered the glass beakers which laid in medical. A scream like no other echoed throughout the ship and out into the vacuum of space where it was silenced. 

Silence now also filled medical along with calm. Harper stared down at Tyr's still trembling form. Brown eyes locked onto blue eyes. Mixed emotions filled the distance between them. Thankfulness, fear, sorrow, regret, but most of all pain. Quickly Harper looked away in shame as he silently un-strapped the larger man. The unnervingly quiet Harper injected Tyr with a sedative that would override the drug that had kept him conscious throughout the whole torturous experience. Rest Tyr, rest, Harper thought but was unable to bring himself to say out loud. The now heavy eyelids closed over those rich brown eyes as torrents of tears were building up behind the blue ones.

******

Still outside of the now eerily quiet medical, Rommie stood in shock. Her ear receptors were still shaking from the un-human scream that just resonated through the entire ship. Her circuits were still tingling from the wave of energy that passed through her body. She could have sworn she heard the energy cursing Harper's name. Some of her circuits must still be fried, she thought.

Hissing from the impenetrable doors opening broke her from her silent state of shock. She turned to see a ghost walking towards her. Cuts and bruises still covered his dirty and blood covered face. His left arm hung sickly at his side only swaying with the momentum of his bounce-less steps. His bright orange shirt was now gray, black, and red. The original bright lively color was completely hidden. The usually shinny data port was now muted by the oozing blood and grim. Grim that coated every inch of his body. The area around the port was so swollen that it looked like he had a huge tumor on his neck. Resting on top of that swollen neck laid the drooped head, the sunken cold eyes, the dirt and blood covered amazingly still spiky hair. But this was not her Harper, this was a ghost, a shell of the man she knew and loved.

The depressive being brushed past the staring android, mumbling an order as he went. "Go check on Tyr, make sure he's ok." He never made eye contact as he slumped down against a nearby wall. He cradled his head in his knees and one functional arm. Another mumble could be heard from his self made cavern of despair, "Go."

Rommie obeyed his order out of sheer confusion. Her processors didn't know what to make of what she had just seen, so she turned and went to work on a problem she could handle.

As she entered medical, she saw all of her crew lined up on the medical beds. Only Try was not restrained and only Try showed signs of the horror that was Harper. Quickly she ran her hand over his body, over the numerous inflamed cuts and over the patchwork of burns on his temples. He would survive. But she also noted that the intruder's energy pattern was gone. She now realized the theory she had been repressing, the theory she was hoping was wrong was, in fact, correct. Harper was torturing the others to drive the intruders from their bodies. Sad eyes drifted over the peacefully sleeping forms of Beka, Trance and Dylan as Rommie realized what they still had to face. Then her thoughts turned to the sad soul who was planning on performing the torture. It would kill him to have to torture all of them. She couldn't let him do it alone. She race back to the corridor to find the ghost.

He hadn't moved an inch. He was still trembling and cradling himself up against the wall. His head was buried in the nook of his right arm as his left arm still hung dead from his thinning body.

Rommie took in the sight as a sigh escaped her lips. "Harper?" she gently whispered the ghost's name. No response. She slowly moved towards the trembling form and slid down the wall next to him, placing her arm around his shoulders. At no point did he even acknowledge her presence.

"Seamus?" she gently whispered again.

"What?" came a muffled rough annoyed voice from the cavern.

"Talk to me," she ordered as a mother would a child.

"'bout what?" mumbled out from the form.

At least he was talking Rommie thought. "The drug you took. What is it, why did you take it." 

"Buzz, earth drug. Is Tyr ok?" the still muffled emotionless voice asked.

"He will survive. I'm more concerned about you though. What's Buzz, it's not in any of my databases?" she asked as she pulled Harper closer in, trying to sooth his trembling body.

"Glad he's ok, and don't worry 'bout me, 'm fine." Harper said rather unconvincingly as he shifted his sore body. 

"Buzz...what is it?" Rommie tried again. 

"It's...it's...a drug...don't wanna talk about it," he spat out as he turned his still buried head farther away from Rommie's direction forcing his face deeper into the crevice of his arm.

Rommie noticed his slight movement. She so yearned to see those sparkling blue eyes. As gently as possible she reached into his space and place her hand on his slightly exposed cheek. As if touched by acid, Harper pulled away even farther trying to escape the tight embrace of Rommie's arm. Tenderly, Rommie reached in farther, grabbing his chin and forcing his face out of the depressive cavern. She turned the down trodden face towards her, forcing his chin up. That was when she saw them, for the first time, she saw them. 

His eyes, his dead empty eyes. Just as quickly as they appeared, they dropped back down to stare at the oh so interesting floor.

Rommie's heart, real or programmed, dropped out of her chest and shattered. "Seamus, look at me."

No movement.

"Seamus, I understand what you're doing...what you did. I'm here to help. You're not alone anymore. You don't have to....hurt them alone" She paused as she let the words filter through his stubborn brain.

His eyes were still locked on the floor as a battle was raging in his mind. The black box was exploding, great floods of emotions, of memories were begging to escape. Screams pounded at the lid as sobs tried to weep through the cracks. He felt Rommie's cold yet warm embrace around his shoulders, felt her hard yet soft hand cupping his chin. His raging thoughts then turned to Trance, Dylan and Beka still laying imprisoned in their own bodies. His thoughts turned to Tyr covered in cuts. He could never face him again, he could never look him in the eyes ever again. That was how it would be with the other too. Never again would he be able to look into Beka's vibrant eyes, never again would he be able to bask in the glory of Trance's glowing smile or laugh at one of Dylan's sad attempts at humor. He was no longer part of the crew, no longer an accepted part of the family. He was alone...again. But that was HIS future, not Rommie's. The other's needed her. They would need her to help them through what he was doing to them, to help them stay together. He was expendable, she was not. 

He slapped a new bigger stronger box on top of the old one. His thoughts and brimming emotions silenced as he reentered torture mode. He only had three and a half days left to free the others before his Buzz clock ran out. He realized with two doses of Buzz in his system that when that alarm finally went off, his life was most likely over. Yes, he was expendable, dead and expendable. 

The silence grew louder as Rommie's plea remained unanswered. Rommie then noticed something, a change. Harper's features suddenly grew harder before her eyes. "Harper?" she gently prodded.

Still no answer, but there was movement, massive movement. Harper quickly jerked his head out of her warm touch and shrugged off her loving embrace. He forced his still trembling legs to hold the ever decreasing weight of his body. The increased metabolism and the lack of food over the past five days were burning what little fat Harper had on his slim form. 

"Harper?!" Rommie asked much louder as she jumped up to follow the silent Harper. A quiet Harper always put her concern chip in overdrive.

Walking away from Rommie and back into medical, he spoke, "I've got to do this myself Rommie. You have to be here for the others."

"Damn it Harper, listen to yourself!! I can be here for you too. I can help you. You can't do this alone! Look at what just torturing Tyr has done to you. We can do this together!" She yelled hoping to get through to him. She failed.

Harper walked up to Tyr and place one of his extra shielding devices on the peacefully sleeping form. Still shunning his gaze from Rommie's eyes, he gave her an order, "Take him to another room. Care for him, clean the acid out of the cuts."

Rommie stared at the stranger in front of her with her mouth agape. "No! Harper, listen. We ca...."

"Rommie, please, just do as I say," Harper interrupted as the exhaustion finally started to filter into his voice.

She was getting nowhere with him and Tyr's cuts were in desperately need of cleaning. "Fine. But Harper, don't you even dare seal me out of here again," she threaten like only a warship could. With Harper's help, she transferred Tyr to a gurney. Then alone, she moved him to one of the smaller adjacent medical rooms. As soon as he was comfortable, she raced back to the main medical facility only to find that Harper had indeed sealed her out.

"GGGRRR!! DAMN IT HARPER!!! LET ME IN THERE!!" she screamed at the annoyingly closed door. When there was no answer, she slammed her fist into the door. Again, the rude door responded with not even a mark. 

With steam pouring out of her ears, she spun around and headed for the closest armory. Firepower always worked when talking failed. She saw what Harper was doing and was not about to let that boy needlessly sacrifice himself for the others. 

*****

Inside the once more sealed tight room, Harper stood watch over his next victim. The room was eerily quite as his hand hovered above his Tray-O-Torture searching for the right object. In front of him laid his father-like uncle, his captain, his friend.

His next torture victim.

His hand found the small syringe and lifted it off the tray. 

"I'm sorry," fell quietly from his lips as he pressed the syringe against Dylan's neck.

TBC......


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Sorry about the delay. I am a bad, bad fanfic writer. 

Again, a big thank you to all my reviewers! I love you guys! I got nothing else to say, so onto the new chapter!

Chapter 16

Drop. Unbelievable burning. Drop. Agonizing pain. Drop. Yells tearing from a raw bloody throat. Drop. Dreams of sweet blissful unconsciousness. Drop. Visions of throwing Harper out the air lock. Drop.....

Dylan Hunt was a trapped, tortured, angry man. Strapped to a bed, his body lost to an intruding alien and his mind flooding with rage towards the individual who was causing pain to said body. So far the psycho had burned his temples, cut his body and was now in the process of dropping acid in those very cuts. The intelligent man realized why his engineer was causing him such pain, but the idealistic High Guard captain could not believe that this was the only way to rid themselves of their intruders. After seeing what Harper had done to the Pythos, he had lost all respect for the little man's moral and compassionate compass. The Earther was a psychotic killer and the captain wanted him off his ship...NOW!!

A new drop of acid fell into the cavern of a cut as tears rolled out of Dylan's tightly clenched closed eyes. The saline drops rolled warmly into his ears after their trip through the deep crevices of wrinkles that were etched throughout his face. 

The second mind in this trapped tortured body was another angry man, or better yet, being. Fex was fueled by Dylan's fury and was not going to leave this strong body without a fight. He too understood the little man's plan and was not going to let him be successful. Damn it, he was Fex! Strong and mighty Fex! Some pathetic, weak, all be it scary as hell, runt was not about to chase him out of his adopted body and into death with a little pain. He was stronger than that. He was Fex the mighty!

Another drop of acid silently fell from the dropper that was controlled by the eerily steady hand of yet one more trapped and tortured soul. Harper threw on more and more locks onto his box as Dylan's powerful screams constantly echoed in his ears. They mixed together with the memories of Tyr's deafening yells to cause a harmony of agony that reverberated throughout his deeply repressed mind.

"You monster!! You psycho! As soon as I'm free I'm gonna throw your depraved body out the closest air looooccckkkkkaaarrrghhhhh....." The real Dylan threatened as one more drop hit one of his many inflamed wounds. 

A monster. Even in his delirious state, Dylan could still see the truth, Harper thought. He was a monster, he always had been. For the past six years, ever since he meet Beka, he had been hiding his true being behind a mask of helplessness. Now that mask had been violently ripped off. His friends would all see him for what he truly was...A Monster. A Monster, who back on Earth, would club weak elders over the head in the back alleys for any meager food or belongings they had on their frail bodies. A Monster who then left those poor souls to most likely die in those dark and dirty alleys. A Monster who would steal clothing off the dead, who would sell his body for food and then mercilessly beat his customers for their money, food, or weapons. Now the Monster was torturing his friends, his family, simply because he was too dumb to come up with an alternate solution. Harper truly hoped that Dylan would keep his word just this once and throw him out the closest air lock. Vacuum was the only substance that belongs in such a monster's lungs.

Drop. Scream. Drop. Threat. Drop. A more violent threat. Drop. Explosion.

A blast disturbed the steady rhythm of torture as rubble came flying towards the collection of troubled souls as the shock wave hit their bodies. Harper staggered but was able to stay on his feet. He turned his head towards the source of the large blast. Where the strong impenetrable doors to medical uses to stand, now stood the equally strong and very well armed Rommie. Her gigantic gun was still smoldering from the blast it had just produced. Rubble from now huge gapping hole in the wall surrounded the beautifully hand crafted android. An angry scowl filled her finely featured face. Harper's special overrides were now history. 

"Go away," Harper ordered through his clenched teeth.

"No," Rommie answered as she started to approach the couple.

The prone half of the pair found his hoarse voice. "Rommie! Throw this piece of garbage out the airlock and get me off this bed!!" It was hard to tell which of the minds in the body was talking. The explosion had made Harper lose track of the electric eye dances. 

Rommie just looked down at the struggling form on the bed. Her circuits began to misfire as she saw her powerful captain resigned to fighting the restraints. Her programming sent back error messages as she took in the damage Harper had already caused to her highest ranking crew member. The error messages then began flooding in as she tried to envision herself torturing any of her crew. Would her programming even allow her to do what had to be done to save the others? Her eyes then switched to her broken engineer. 

Ignoring Dylan's screaming orders to introduce Harper to the nice environment outside the ship, she addressed the downtrodden young man in front of her. "Harper, let me help you."

"No, go away," Harper hissed back as he kept his eyes locked on the empty space in front of him.

"Harper, you haven't eaten or slept in the past seven days. I know the only way you could still be standing is the drug, but you still need some food and rest. Look at yourself, you're wasting away." It was true, the normally skinny engineer was now just a shadow of what he used to be. The sunken in eyes were the most freighting aspect of the stick of a man in front of her.

"Rommie...Just...Go...A...WAY!!!" Harper yelled as he ripped his eyes off the air before him and locked them onto Rommie's artificial eyes. 

It took all of her control not to jump back when she saw his eyes. They were so empty and yet so filled with rage, fury, and sadness. There was no sign of her happy-go-lucky engineer anywhere in the man that stood before her.

She charged her massive weapon that still sat heavily in her arms and aimed it straight at the stranger who stood in front of her. "Put down the dropper and step away from Dylan." 

"Yah baby!! Kill the psycho!!" the peanut gallery cheered on from the bed. That was undeniably Fex in control now. Even though he echoed Dylan's thoughts, the wording was completely alien to the body.

Harper surprisingly did as Rommie had ordered but quickly followed it up by grabbing the android's arm and forcing her through the hole in the wall she has just previously created.

"Harper!?" Rommie yelped as she reluctantly gave into Harper's shoving.

"Shut up and move," Harper hissed.

Once the stumbling pair were well away from Dylan's earshot, Harper pushed the somewhat willing Rommie up against the wall. "Don't talk, just listen," Harper spat out through still clenched teeth. One would have thought someone super glued his teeth together.

Rommie noted that Harper was still making eye contact with her and was actually talking. Realizing that this might be a good sign she did as the boy wished. He let up on the grasp he had on her arm and let her body come off the wall a tad. The cold look that infiltrated his eyes made Rommie's hopes diminish. Maybe him talking was not a good sign. 

"Rommie, I'm on Buzz, ok, one dose lets you not eat or sleep for four days. Then you get this nice nasty withdrawal. I'm on my second dose and the more doses you take the stronger the withdrawal. Few are known to survive more than one dose, so please consider me dead. So be a good, smart android and let the dead man take your crew's hate for the pain they must endure. You just heal them, mentally and physically. They will need you after I'm done with them. They will need your shoulder to lean on. Your NEUTRAL shoulder. I've only got a little over three days left of my current dose and don't really wanna take my last one. So, if you would be so kind as to leave me alone for the next three days to try to save your crew, I would be eternally grateful. Then you can find my pathetic corpse and chuck it out an airlock." Harper finished up as his empty eyes were still glued onto her as to emphasis his point. A second of silence later, the head dropped and the eyes once again went back to watching the every so interesting air.

The calm voice Harper spoke with sent electric chills down Rommie's back. The gun that still filled her arms dropped and clunked onto the floor. She once more cupped Harper's chin in her hand and forced his face upward.

"Harper, sadly I must admit that you are correct on a number of issues. Honestly I'm not even sure if my programming will allow me to do what you're doing... what needs to be done. But you are gravely incorrect on the other issues. We are NOT, EVER, going to throw your body out an airlock. You ARE NOT going to die from the withdrawal. And we WILL make the others understand. They will not hate you. I simply won't allow it. You are part of my crew too, and I will not loose you either." 

Harper's eyes had dropped again by the end of her speech. Rommie made a mental note to find a good shrink after all this was over. 

A silent moment passed as Rommie's words were shoved into Harper's lovely black box. Once secure, he broke off from her tender embrace of his chin and turned away.

"Fine, whatever, just stay clear of medical for now. I'll call you when Dylan is Dylan again," he distantly said as he headed back towards the room of pain.

Rommie watched the broken man's back retreat down the corridor. As he was turning the corner, her view was rudely interrupted by her hologram self.

"He's not Harper any more you know," the light coldly stated.

"Yes he is. He's just....lost." Rommie said the last word in a sad whisper.

"He's also right. I've finished running the scan's on the chemicals in his system. The withdrawal will most likely kill him," Holo-Rommie said most mechanically.

Rommie's face hardened. Sometime the coldness of her sisters really pissed her off. "Well let's use that giant computer of ours and find a way to save him!" 

The hologram did it's best impersonation of a sigh. "Fine, but you know this is why you are suppose to keep military detachment from the crew. It would be better if you just accepted his imminent death. It would be easier on all of our collective systems."

Circuit after circuit popped with anger. "S-Some....Sometimes, I...you, can be so...so....so....BINARY!!" Rommie yelled as she stormed off.

*******

Medical continued to echo with Dylan's screams of pain as well as his roars of threats. Hour after hour passed. The acid gave way to electrocution. Deeper, scarier screams ripped from Dylan's throat. The pain was unbearable, but sill Fex would not leave. 

Hour after hour passed. The electrocution gave way to poisoning. Harper forced a substance down's Dylan's throat. At first, it soothed his raw passageway, but as soon as it hit his stomach, pain ripped through his body starting from his stomach then reaching out to his lower back and finally spreading out to his extremities. Chills ran through his body as he felt ice filling his veins. Still, Fex endured the massive pain instead of giving in to sweet death. 

Hour after hour passed. Cold sweet beamed off of Dylan's pale forehead as the poison took a greater hold on his body. Cold sweet also is a great conductor for electricity. Harper gave Dylan the combo action. The restrained prone body writhed as waves of power surged through his body. 

Hour after hour passed. Dylan's screams were only primal screeches now as his voice was almost completely gone. Still Harper sent volts of electricity through the writhing body. Still the poison worked it's way farther into Dylan's system. And still, Fex refused to leave.

Hour after hour passed. It had been almost twenty four hours since Harper had first woken Dylan/Fex. Twenty four hours of constant and intense pain. This was Fex's breaking point. With a yell of pure energy Fex left Dylan's writhing, mutated body. His power storm, as Harper was calling the wave of energy that left the bodies, was much stronger than Stolic, much angrier. Cabinets all over medical flew open, counters shook and whatever beakers Stolic had left standing, now shattered into a million pieces. 

Then silence.

Harper looked down at the still twitching Dylan. The one and only real Dylan. Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment. Harper felt all the hate, rage, disgust and pain from Dylan engulf his being. The cynical engineer normally didn't believe in telepathy, but right now he was a true believer. Quickly he sedated Dylan simply to get those haunting eyes off of him. Harper then contacted Rommie as promised in order to take Dylan to the recuperating room. He informed her of the poison and told her to pump his stomach to free him from the vial substance. 

Once again he was left alone in the room of horrors. Like a ghost, he stood watching over his lovely ladies. Beka or Trance? Protective big sister or his golden goddess? He drudgingly pushed his Tray-O-Torture over the next bed. The thought of either women screaming broke what remained of his heart. In the eerily silence, he could actually hear the shards fall to the ground. He decided he would save the hardest for last. The one that at just the idea of hurting caused his entire soul to collapse sobbing to the floor. If he hurt her last, he would have to live with the memories for a shortest amount of time. Oh, how he envied Fex and Stolic for the sweet death that now embraced them. 

Steadying his only functional hand, he gently placed the syringe against his beloved's neck. Against her soft, flawless neck. With great remorse, he injected the stimulant that would wake his sleeping beauty. A small tear escaped his blood shot eyes as he reached for the laser.

Minutes later screams could be heard echoing throughout the ship. In every corridor, in every room. Screams that only a golden goddess could produce.

TBC.........


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Again, a huge thanks to my reviewers. {{{{{Reviewers!}}}}}

Now, onto the next bit....

Chapter 17

"So you think death may hold interesting mysteries?"

"Yes. Think of the vast unknown of where none return. Think of the knowledge death must hold. Think of the questions it will answer and the new questions it will create."

A pause in the conversation was created by the unified screams that both souls let out as the micron sharp scalpel was once more raked deeply across their golden skin.

"But there is so much more of the corporeal world I wish to learn. I want to stay, to learn about your way of living," Nixic the invader whinnied.

"Harper will not let you, you know this, you share my knowledge of him. He will never allow you have my body. All you will know in this form is never ending pain."

The symphony of harmonious screams once more broke the chain of conversation.

Nixic sighed. "You are right dear Trance. Oh, I wish you could have shared the sweet bliss of murder with me, felt the joy of creating completely terrifying chaos. You would have enjoyed it immensely. But alias, the strings of the universe calls me in another direction."

The scalpel broke the skin like the release of screams broke the conversation.

"Thank you Trance for sharing your body with me. I have greatly enjoyed learning about your emotions, such as love, and about your interesting concept of compassion. It has been a very enlightening experience."

Once more pain broke the rhythm of saying farewells.

"Sweet travels Nixic."

"Violent wishes Trance."

A torrent of energy tore from Trance's body and flooded out into Med deck like a river during a flash flood. Trance felt her body being pull apart from the inside out. Nixic's screams of pain and cries for help slowly echoed around her, while the desperation from the homeless being engulfed her body. Curiosity and even pleasure occasional tapped against her skin from the storm of Nixic. Slowly, the electric air dissipated as Nixic went on the explore the vastness of the universe and beyond. Trance was left alone with only her thoughts and exhausted body.

The quiet was odd really. It was too quiet. She had become accustomed to talking with Nixic, to having two voices in her mind. Now it was just her. A drop of loneness fell into her being.

"Trance?" An even lonelier voice broke through the silence of her mind. Trance unclenched her previously closed eyes. What filled her view sent waves of nausea through her stomach. It was her best friend.

He was standing next to her, releasing her from the restraints he had placed her in. Restraints that had held her captive for the four hours of hell. Hell he had inflicted upon her. But revenge and anger never surfaced. One look at him and all she felt was sorrow and pity. 

A light shadow of a beard was filling up his blood and dirt coated face. Bruising was still peaking out from underneath the vast layers of grim. She searched for his trademark dimple but only found infected cuts that his friends had given him. His deeply, sunken, empty eyes were motionless and his mouth didn't even twitch or try to produce any wise cracks. The stranger in Harper's body reached across Trance to release her right arm. As he did so, a wave of fowl stench filled her nostrils. The stench of sweat, blood, and death......the stench of hopelessness.

Her eyes dropped off his ragged face and onto the damages she had caused him. His left arm still hung from his side like a dead deformed snake. Grief, regret and even more pity filled every inch of her soul This was not her Harper. This was a depressing, hopeless, silent clone that was a mare shadow of the original.

"Harper," she struggled to get out past her dry lips, raw throat and overwhelming emotions.

The clone responded my meeting her longing gaze. But as with all the others, those depressing eyes fell a second later to spare his friends his pain, his regret and his hidden monster.

Trance ordered her trembling arms to push her aching body into a sitting position. She could feel the stimulant Harper had given her repress the tremendous urge to pass out.

The stranger who looked like Harper approached her with a syringe in his trembling right hand. She flashed him a questioning look which he quickly glanced up to catch.

"To make you sleep," he informed he as he brought the container of unconscious bliss closer to her neck.

Quickly the golden alien grabbed the trembling arm. But just as quickly, the owner yanked the extremity away as if her touch was death itself.

Where is my Harper!? she demanded to herself. "Seamus, are you ok?" she asked even though she knew the answer. She desperately needed to hear him give his normal speedy reply of "I'm good, I'm good." She needed to hear it to know that her best friend was still somewhere in that pathetic shell of a man.

"You need to rest," was all he answered.

Sorrow filled Trance once more as she searched for any sign of Harper. She tried to push herself off the bed to get closer to the oh-so distant human, but her jelly like arms couldn't even move her an inch. Words were her only tool now. "Harper, you're scaring me. Talk to me...please," she begged sounding more like her innocent purple pixie self rather than the battle hardened golden warrior.

The look-a-like lifted his wary head up from his intense study of the floor. Trance felt his cold gaze bore deep into her forehead. Apparently her eyes were to hard a target for him to hit.

"Look, you need to rest, just let me give this to you 'cause I don't have time for explanations or a pity party." His tone was quick, harsh and determined.

"Why don't you have time? Harper, at least sit down next to me. You know I won't bite...hard." That had to get a smile to break out of that eerily empty face.

His response was the continued endurance of his intense blank stare.

Trance felt buckets of ice water get poured down her back.

"No time," he hastily mumbled more to himself than to his audience.

One final idea hit Trance's desperate mind. If he didn't respond to this, nothing would free her Harper from stranger trembling in front of her. "Seamus Harper, if you come over here now and sit next to me, I will give you the best kiss you've ever experienced." Hoped filled the void of silence that flowed in after she finished her sentence.

He responded.

A blank stare, then a dropped head, then the unthinkable....he backed away.

Paranoia from the Buzz was racing through every inch of his mind and body. Why did she wanna kiss him? Why now? Why after he had just tortured her? He remembered her hand wrapping around his arm holding him while the others beat him. He remembered the sick crackling that his bones created as the pressure from her grip increased. Then he remembered her grabbing his arm as he had tried to inject her with the sedative. Yes, that's it. She wanted him to get close enough to her so she could finish the job. Well Momma Harper's boy was not about to loose his right arm to stupidity! 

Trace watched in shock as Harper took that small yet huge step backwards. As his foot fell to the ground, he turned Trance's shattered world into dust.

Then the unthinkable was followed by the unbelievable. He threw the syringe at her as he quickly grabbed his gun from his belt. Even with a trembling arm, he managed to keep her equally trembling body targeted with the already charged weapon.

"Inject yourself," his raw alien voice demanded.

"Harper?" Trance whispered in overwhelming shock.

"just do it....no time, no time, must finish, no time...do it..." he rambled to himself.

Trance replied with a confused stare. What the hell was wrong with him. Was that really Harper or had one of the aliens invaded him too? What had this experience created?

"DO IT!" the stranger's mumbles had turned into a yell. His finger twitched ever closer to the trigger.

With no way to physically reach him and with words failing her, Trance gave into his demands. Guilt immediately filled her as the thought of giving up on Harper filtered into her conciseness. When my strength returns, I will help him, she thought to ease the monster of guilt...if he's even alive then, the scarier monster of despair added on. She raised the syringe to her neck with much effort and injected her body with the chemicals that would ease her troubled mind and let her escape her cruel reality.

Harper watched as Trance fell back onto the med bed. He still had his gun trained on her now unmoving form. A hurricane of emotions ragged in his head. Trust, betrayal, love, hate, acceptance, shame. 

As he gazed longingly at his golden goddess, the eye of the hurricane hit. Emotions filtered up to the surface. His cold eyes filled with stubborn tears that would not give into gravity's relentless demand. 

Slowly he made his way over to the peaceful form. He lifted her dangling legs back onto the soft mattress and placed her sprawled arms at her sides. Feeling safe in the knowledge that she could not harm him anymore, he brushed aside a loose dreadlock that laid across her beautiful face. He bent down over her and brushed his dry lips against her soft, warm forehead. 

"I'm so sorry," he whispered as the tears finally gave into Newton's laws.

He kept his lips on her soft skin, taking in her sweet smell. Cleansing tears continued to flow down his filthy face creating a path of pale clean skin behind them. "So sorry," he whispered once more. 'So sorry."

Tears continued to flow from his eyes as he regrettably glanced upward and caught a glimpse of the bed next to Trance's. The bed that held his last duty before he would let Buzz take him away from the hells of his mortal existence. That glance marked the approach of other side of the eye wall and signaled that the storm was about to come back stronger than ever.

TBC.....


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: As always, wanna give a big thanks to my reviewers. I still love you guys!

I also wanted to let you know that we are nowhere near the end, so stop worrying! I'd say we are only a little over halfway done. Trust me, there is so much more angst to come it's insane...just like me. heheh.

And on that note, I think my mind is a very scary place. This one actually made my stomach turn a bit. So, pull out your barf bags and your tissues, sit down and read on.

I won't say enjoy cause, you really shouldn't enjoy this one. This one should make you sick. Needless to say, if torture, pain and angst bother you, then how the hell did you get this far with this story? 

Ok, so don't say I didn't warn you. Read on at your own risk. 

Chapter 18

Foot falls echoed through the ransacked medical room. Cabinets were hanging open like an aghast mouth of a shocked face. Shards of glass littered every surface causing a glorious glimmering effect which filled the dead space. Rubble from the creation of the new door still laid spewed across the area while darkened scorch marks covered every inch of the circumference of the new opening. Destruction was everywhere.

In the middle of the room, three small red lakes were still being formed by the blood slowly dripping off the three empty medical beds. The small drops echoed through the thick stale air, imitating the deceptively sweet sound of an early spring shower. A repugnant stench of sweat and a sickly metallic stench of blood permeated the air, killing any hope that the soft sound was in fact a cleansing rainfall.

The frequency of the foot falls slowed as the deafening heartbeat that accompanied them quicken. Cold blue eyes looked onto the shimmering metal tray that laid on the equally cold metallic cart. The metal was smooth with no defects, no deep scars, hidden or otherwise. It just stared back at the young-yet-old eyes with a cold and inhuman glare.

The foot falls slowed more as the empty bloodshot eyes fell upon the only other being in the decimated room of horrors. She looked so peaceful with her eyes gently closed, her blonde hair gently fanned out onto the soft mattress. No lines of worry, fear or happiness announced their presence on her strong yet beautiful features. The only warning signs were the restraints holding down her limbs and her lips that glimmered in the unfeeling medical lights. A glimmer that was just a little too similar to the inhuman shine to the metal tray.

Finally, medical was quiet save for the shower of blood droplets softly falling into themselves. The blue eyes were now hidden from view, hidden from the being on the bed and hidden from the world. A small tear sneaked out past the well guarded tear ducts and rolled down the tortured face.

A shadow crossed over the tray filled with bottles and instruments. A syringe slowly rose from the collection and silently made it's way over to the peaceful body. Quivering in the air, the syringe stopped, unable to make it past the invisible force field that surrounded the blonde women.

"Must..." fell from the young man's cracked, bloody lips as the syringe finally broke through the field. The cold hard metal end of the syringe touched the warm soft skin of the woman. One would have expected a reaction from the meeting of such opposites, such as when ice meets heat, but no such violent reaction was forthcoming. The cold metal vibrated against the skin and then was gone once more, withdrawn before it had completed it's life purpose.

"For...B-Beka..." came hushed out of the cotton dry mouth. The syringe once more broke through the force field, landed on the skin, and this time, dropped off it's cargo.

The peaceful face changed. The eyes began to flutter like the delicate wings of a butterfly just coming out of it's cocoon and lines of life began re-appearing on the delicate epidermis. Peace was gone and cruel reality had returned.

HOUR ONE:

Before him laid his savior. She had swooped down out the smog filled sky, plucked him from his miserable existence and showed him the wonders of heaven. Now he was standing above her about to introduce her to hell.

Her eyes were just beginning to focus. Was is Beka or Velac, friend or enemy? Either way it didn't matter, did it?

Her arms started to struggle against the restraints as soon as the reality of the situation sunk into her conciseness. Angry eyes looked up at the soon-to-be-torturer. "HARPER!!!" LET ME GO!!!" She yelled at the top of her very fit lungs.

"No," he answered quietly.

"I swear I will hurt Beka if you don't release me this instant!!" More demands flew out like spit from the helpless women's mouth.

It didn't matter to Harper if Velac hurt Beka, he was about to hurt her more than anyone else in the know universe could. With a tentative hand, he reached over to his newly sterilized Tray-O-Torture and grabbed his trusty laser. It took all his strength to bring the menacing instrument up to Beka's temples.

The whole time the eyes that were engulfed with fire watched his every movement. "What are you doing runt?! Did you not hear me? Are you deaf as well as stupid. Do you need to actually hear her scream to understand what I can and will do to her!?" Velac yelled trying to reason with the mad man above her. 

Harper's eyelids closed as he tried to focus all of his energy and will power on turning the laser on. 'For Beka, for Beka, for Beka', he kept chanting in his troubled mind.

Before he knew it, the sound he never thought he would hear filled his life. The sound of Beka Valentine screaming in agony from the pain stimulated by Seamus Zealanzy Harper.

HOUR 2:

Burning on her temples, pain throughout her body, fire running through her brain, then waves of energy cursing through her mind, unbearable and indescribable pain that pierced even the deepest regions of her mind and soul, and then the burning would return and the cycle would begin once more. Half she owed to the invader in her body while the other half she owed to her closest and most trusted friend. When one would stop, the other would begin. All Beka knew was deep, never-ending pain and the sound of her own voice crying out for help from the little brother who was torturing her from above. 

HOUR 3:

The happy, shinny laser continued to burn deep into the sensitive, soft skin of the temple. 'Oh, sweet life! To be outside and to be of use,' the laser cheered happily. The past few days had been wonderful for the lonely instrument. It's normal boring existence of being forgotten about in a dark claustrophobic drawer was a distant memory. Now all it knew was the warm hand embracing it's handle and the sweet chorus of music that came from the mouth of the writhing blonde women.

HOUR 4:

Visions of the runt's limbs being pulled off one by one filled Velac's raging mind. The thought of gouging his eyes out with his own damn scalpel and then roasting the bloody orbs on a stick over an open flame brought a smile to her mind.

She understood all too well what his plan was, but he needed to understand that she was not going to let him succeed. He had mentioned the others were all gone, fled like chickens from his torture....well big wooptey shit. They were all weak and pathetic fools, but she was not. She was stronger, smarter, and better. Beka's body was hers and hers alone, and no little runt was about to take that away from her. 

HOUR 6:

Blinders were placed up around Harper's vision as autopilot took over. This time he wasn't even watching from above. This time he had opened the dark box in his mind and willingly crawled in, closing the heavy lid behind him.

He could still feel the scalpel in his hand, he could still feel the warmth which radiated off of Beka's body, and he could still hear her agonizing screams. At least the thick haze which clouded his mind turned her desperate cries for help into muffled screams where he could only make out his name.

Deep within his box, he found the darkest corner and curled up into it. Despair came up to him and cuddled next to him, putting it's heavy hairy arm around Harper's trembling shoulders.

HOUR 8:

The micron sharp knife entered the sacred place below the skin as viscous crimson liquid gently rose from the deep incision. The scalpel withdrew from the holy place and the blood began to flow freely. Out of it's deep crevasse it rose and onto the pale delicate skin. Slowly it rolled down the smooth curvature of the arm. After traveling half the circumference of the limb, the crimson river reached the soft mattress only to be met by the liquid resistant surface. Feeling defeated, the river rolled off of the bed and began to create a bloody lake by the creator's feet. The lovely light spring shower just got a little heavier.

HOUR 10:

"S-S-Seamus....p-please...s-stoooppp....aaarrrggghhh!"

Once more her pleads fell onto deaf ears, or able ears and an unwilling mind. 'Why didn't he listen to her?' Beka cried out in her mind. She needed him to stop, he had to stop. The endless cycle of pain was just too much for her to bear. Not only was she feeling her pain, but she felt Velac's pain as well. How could anyone withstand this much agony? 

"S-S-Stop....p-please...s-stop...too...m-much...."

Again, her friend's only response was more pain. 'Not again,' she sobbed to herself. Once again, the person she cared for and trusted most in the universe was failing her. First her father, then her brother, her uncle, all of her boyfriends and now Harper. He was the last person she would have expected to break her trust, to hurt her. He was like a kid brother, always getting into trouble, always goofing off to cheer her up, always there for her. But now he was gone, just like all the others. She desperately needed him to stop and he just ignored her. She would rather have Velac in her body forever than experience any more pain.

"T-T-T-oo....m-much..." she frantically tried one more time.

HOUR 15:

The bloody scalpel had finally been replaced by the dropper filled with hydrochloric acid. The hand wielding the dropper was still on autopilot as the owner still cowered deep within his box surrounded by his new friends Despair, Self-loathing, and Disgust. He buried his head farther into his hands as he once more heard Beka's distressed voice calling his name. Self-loathing curled up closer to Harper's sobbing form.

HOUR 20:

Ok, so what if the boy was extraordinary. So what if he had a very impressive array of torture techniques up his sleeves. So what if the pain was slowly tearing her strong mind apart. So what if he didn't even flinch when she informed him how much pain his beloved Beka was in and that Beka wanted her to say instead of feeling any more pain. So what if a tiny wish for the pain to stop was growing in her mind as well.

HOUR 25:

Rommie had left her three peaceful sleeping patients behind to go check on her XO and her psychotic engineer. His absence from medical when she had gone to pick up Trance had her worried. Now the length of Beka's torture was increasing her worry ten fold.

She knew this had to be killing Harper and she just needed to see for herself how he was doing. Add to the fact that the Buzz deadline was rapidly approaching and worry filled every available circuit. He only had twenty-four hours, fourteen minutes, and 36.89 seconds before he faced the deadly withdrawal.

She approached medical only to be greeted by hoarse blood curdling screams originating from Beka. Shit, she thought. He was still at it. Hope died in Rommie as she had thought that maybe Harper was simply hiding and that Beka was already free. What could this be doing to both of their mental states? Worry took over every circuit now, available or otherwise.

The urge to run into medical was overwhelming but she knew that it would do more harm than good. So she fought her computerized instincts and stood in the empty corridor, listening to the brutal screams as her first officer was being tortured by her engineer, just hoping that it would all be over soon. 

HOUR 30:

The acid had long been retired, the poison had had it's turn and failed, the electrocution had fizzled out and Velac was still in alive and kicking.

The next toy was now tightly gripped in Harper's sweaty, clammy hand. Still on autopilot, Harper raised the simple tool and with great force brought it's heavy metal blunt head down onto Beka's arm.

The hammer made a sickening thud which was quickly followed by Goosebump-inducing crunches as the impact created a small array of hairline fractures on the surface of her humerus. Beka's voice was still strong enough to let out another blood curdling scream that sent the hairs on the back of Harper's neck to rise up next to his Goosebumps.

In the now crowded corner in Harper's box, Regret joined the huddled group which surrounded the wrenching body of the tortured torturer.

HOUR 35:

Ooze seeped out of the inflamed cuts that covered Beka's arms, legs and torso. The poison was still flowing through her stomach and intestines causing wave after wave of spasms. Burns covered her temples and deep purple and black, swollen bruises were now making their appearance on all of her extremities. And still the hammer came down on new location after new location, causing more bone crunching thuds and deep agonizing screams.

Thirty five hours in and everything was still the same. Nixic was still holding onto Beka's body with an iron grip, Beka was still a crying, screaming mess of pain and hurt, Harper was still locked deep within his box surrounded by his demons, and Rommie had returned to her listening post just outside of medical, still fighting every instinct to run in and save her crew.

HOUR 40:

The heavy motionless hammer hung by Harper's side reflecting the dead arm that hung from his other shoulder.

"S-See...H-Harper...you can't win. Might as w-well give up n-now. I-I'll nev-never leave B-Beka," Velac forced out through Beka's raw bleeding throat. The voice was weak and cracking with each syllable.

The torturer's weary head dropped as reality killed the little glimmer of hope that had been hiding deep inside his heart. All of his most benign toys had been used and his time was quickly running out. The top of the Buzz-filled hourglass was quickly getting more and more empty and lonely. He needed Nixic out now and didn't have time for the slower techniques to work. He was going to have to fall back onto the harsher, quicker, and more dangerous ones to save Beka in time.

So far, all he had shared with the others were the more mild and less intrusive techniques that the Pytho's had used on him. He desperately wanted to spare the crew from the permit damage and life-long scars that he lives with. In all the time that he had know Beka and the others, he had hid as much of his body as possible. If they did, at some point, catch a glimpse of his dark past that was still etched on his skin, they were kind enough not to mention it. Underneath his shirt laid grisly scars on top of even grislier scars. There were deep discolored indentations where inches of his skin were still missing. Even his bone structure had been altered during his time with the lovely Pythos. His ribs resembled a bent and twisted up Slinky from when they had been broken time and time again. Never once did the Pythos reset them to heal properly. Worst of all, he had lost most of his feeling on his back. Whenever Beka had rubbed his back to comfort him, he felt nothing. All the whippings, cuttings, beatings, and burnings had killed most of his nerve endings back there. He didn't want the others to not be able to feel a comforting hand on their backs. He didn't want the others to feel the emptiness that he felt. He had hoped to save this all from this fate. His hope just died.

In the dark box, Regret pulled Harper's trembling form closer to it's scaly body.

Autopilot ordered Harper's arm over to the shimmering tray and grabbed a handful of smooth, long, thin, pointed metal rods.

In the dark box, Self-loathing wiped away the tears flowing down the boy's face.

Autopilot forced the withered mutilated arm to hold the sharp end of the rod against the skin which covered Beka's soft, vulnerable shoulder. The weak and painful arm struggled to keep the rod steady as tremors accompanied every minute movement it made. With the hammer still tightly gripped in his other hand, he slowly rose the crude instrument upward. He took aim at the slightly vibrating rod and let the hammer fall.

The metal on metal contact sent a wave of vibrations up both of his arms. He wanted to join Beka in screaming as the wave felt like fire racing up his mutilated arm, but instead he hit the stake again. Deeper and deeper he drove it into her skin, then into her muscle, then he let it rest as it gently penetrated and cracked the surface of her bone.

Quickly grabbing another shinning spike, he started the process again on her other shoulder. In his clouded mind he could just make out Beka's muffled screams of deep agony. Screams that brought up more repressed memories of those same screams tearing out from his own throat many years ago. 

Inside the dark box, those same memories started playing out on the walls of the corner which engulfed him. He was surrounded by his past and present as echoes of his and Beka's screams merging into one horrify cry.

HOUR 45:

Locked within her mind and body, Beka resorted to assuming a fetal position and trying to rock comfort into herself. The pain running through her body was unrelenting and unimaginable while the pain cursing through her mind was only unbearable and indescribable. In her agony filled world, she had lost all sense of time. For all she knew, it had been weeks since Harper had betrayed her, maybe even years.

A cold prick cut through the pain as a new spike pressed up against her thigh. Ironically, the icy sensation it gave off was actually soothing, but she knew all too well that that small pleasure was about to be driven deep inside her being.

She was able to catch Harper's eyes for a second as he rose the hammer once more. As blue bloodshot eyes meet with blue bloodshot eyes, Beka tried to sent one more message via their linked souls: 'Please, no more Harper, I know you can hear me, please, stop, I need you to stop. Why have you abandoned me too? Seamus, please... '

The empty, clouded-over eyes tore away from the pleading gaze. Had he heard her? The hammer hung in the air, wavering like a kite on a windy day. Then the wind stopped and the kite came crashing down.

A sharp pain sprang from her thigh and quickly radiated throughout her entire body. As the pain wave reached each spike that was still impeded in her bones, the sensation of every rod being driven once more into her body filled her world.

Like Harper, she too had retreated deep within her mind. Currently she was still in the lovely fetal position staring at the nothingness that surrounded her. She dreamed that the void would swallow her whole and end her misery.

She felt the pause in the stake-driving which meant Harper was reaching for a new rod. With her head buried in her knees, she made one last wish. 

She wished Harper still loved her enough to drive the next stake through her shattered heart so she could disappear into the void forever.

HOUR 46:

The runt of a Human was impressive, most impressive. Velac had not seen this much brutality in a single being in a long time. The last time she had seen anything like this was from the famous Huxiq legend. Huxiq had returned to the nebula in his new body and ship to regale his fellow Calastors in the horrors he had brought down upon seven planets. His tales were legendary and Velac felt that same sense of awe as she watched the carnage that that small boy had brought down upon everybody around him. Most impressive indeed.

But now, Velac only hoped she could outlast the amazing human so she could return home to tell the others about the brutality of the Harper. Unfortunately, with each new stake that invaded Beka's body, that hope was dieing out as Harper was coming closer and closer to breaking the powerful Velac.

Pain was all Velac could feel, constant, intense, never-ending pain. A few hours ago, the wall that protected her from feeling Beka's pain had finally collapsed to the ground. Since then, each of their separate sensations of pain were building up on top of one another, causing their total pain to increase exponentially.

M-Must...no-not....leav-v-vee....Velac ordered herself.

HOUR 47:

Despair laid it's horned head on Harper's shoulder. Self-loathing embraced the trembling form from behind. Regret cuddled up closer to his left side, holding him tight with it's scaly arm. Disgust laid it's prickly head on his lap while Nausea rested it's slimy body against his quivering legs. 

The fog that engulfed Harper was now so thick that he could not even make out his own hands or hear the metal on metal clink of the hammer making contact with the rod. The only way he knew he was still impaling Beka was by the constant wave of pain that ran up his left crippled arm.

Even in the haze, his genius mind had been able to keep track of the constantly dwindling number of hours. He only had two hours left before withdrawal would devour him, only two hours to free Beka, only two hours to find the smallest, darkest, most remote conduit to crawl into so he could protect his friends one last time from uncontrollable paranoia that would clam his mind and body. 

His mind drifted to the third small pill that still hid in his pants pocket. Maybe he should take that last pill. Sure it would mean his imminent death, but right now, an imminent death sure sounded a lot better than a highly probable death.

More pain ran up his arm. Then he felt it flop around like a fish flipping about on the slippery, wet, wooden deck of a pier. It was trying to grab a new stake.

Self-loathing whispered sweet somethings into Harper's ear. It was reminding him of the great fun that coming if Velac didn't respond to the staking. Despair took this opportunity to remind Harper of his own experience with the next technique.

Memories in choppy, old-fashion, black and white movie form appeared on the walls that surrounded Harper in his crowded, little, dark corner. The image of a sixteen year old beaten and emaciated Seamus strapped to a concrete slap came to life in the grainy image:

A large scowling Pytho stood over the writhing prone form. Currently there were twenty-five dirty, metal stakes that rose up out of the tiny body on the table. Each stake had been brutally driven into his body, yet the Pytho took great care in making sure that none of the stakes hit any vital organs or arteries. Drugs were cursing through the boy's body, keeping him awake and even alert for the torture sessions. The kind and thoughtful Pythos didn't want their play things to miss out on any of the fun. 

The menacing Nietzschean bent over and stared at the dirty, bloody, beaten face. "Kludge, I know you want to scream, to cry out for your mommy." He flicked the stake that was sticking out of Seamus's left shoulder. The young man only responded with a grunt. "SCREAM DAMN YOU!" Fowl, hot breath from the yell filled Seamus's face.

A small smile slowly spread across the dirty, sunken-in face. "Bite me uber," the young voice said in an amazingly steady and calm voice.

The Pytho growled, spun around and stalked over to the numerous selves on the far wall of the tiny windowless room. He searched for a moment through the collection of torture instruments that lined the selves. Spinning back around, a huge, inhuman grin covered his harsh face. In his arms he held a very large battery and many connective wires. With too much care, the enhanced man connected one wire to each of the metal rods that laid embedded into the boy's bones. Once done he connected them to the battery and then sniffed the air.

"You hide your fear well boy, but your scent gives you away. I hope you enjoy this as much as I will." The sick, cold smile stayed glued to his face. Harper hated that smile.

The uber flipped the switch on the battery and ripped the treasured scream out of Harper's throat. The larger man tipped his head back, closed his eyes and took in the sweet sound of agonizing screams. "Ahhh, much better," he said in pure bliss.

The choppy image on the wall burned out.

Back in his dark corner, Harper's hand flew up to his left shoulder. The though of Beka going through that technique and having to endure the scars it left, drained all the blood from his face. The scars were painful and permanent. Harper still had twenty-five small indentations from were the stakes were. The electricity must have made the nerves extra sensitive because if anything even brushed up into the small crevasses, pain as intense as the original pain would fill his body. Yet one more reason why he didn't like people touching him. He desperately didn't want Beka to know the pain he knew.

The new wave of agony that was radiating up his arm swept him away from his horrible memories and dreaded thoughts. He could just barely make out Beka's muffled screams calling him name.

Back in his box, he stared emptily at the dirty ground. More sand slipped from the hourglass.

More waves crashed up his arm and once more he heard Beka's stifled pleads.

Then another wave and more barely audible begs. 

Then a pattern began to emerge:

A muffled, "Harper!"...a wave of pain...screaming...

A muffled, "I-It's m-me..."...a wave of pain...louder screaming...

A muffled, "B-Beka!"... a wave of pain...even louder screaming...

A muffled, "V-Ve-Velac...is...g-gone!!!"...a wave of pain...unbelievable agonizing screaming...

A muffled, "S-Se-Seamus!"...no wave of pain...

The small sentence, "Velac is gone", had filtered through the locked box and into Harper's conciseness. As soon as him mind was able to process the sentence, he leapt up, pushed the demons off, threw the heavy lid off the box, pushed away the thick fog and turned off autopilot.

"H-Harper...p-pl-please...s-s-stop...V-Velax...is...g-gone...p-please.." Beka cried and begged, hoping she had finally reached her Shorty. His glazed over eyes were getting clearer and clearer and the hammer now hung loosely at his side. Did he finally realize Velac was gone? Did he know she, or it really, had left over four spikes ago? Was he now just hurting her because he wanted to? Beka's doubt-filled eyes looked up, pleading silently at the blank face above her.

For the first time in eleven hour Harper really, truly looked down at his boss, his savior, his big sister. Nausea popped it's head out of the box and tapped Harper on his shoulder.

Almost twenty sparkling spikes rose out of Beka's body, a body that was covered in inflamed burns, multi-colored bruises, oozing cuts and many hills and valleys caused by intense swelling.

But Beka was free.

Then a self-loathing jumped out of the box and whispered a dreadful realization into his ear.

'My god', he thought as all color drained from his face. 'How long had she been free?! How many spikes did I drive into a Velac-free Beka?!' Regret leapt from the box to join the party.

"H-H-Harper?....A-Are...you...th-there?...H-Help...m-me...pl-please..." Beka begged with tears streaming down her face. 

All Harper could do was stare at the horror he was capable of, at the pain he was able to inflict on his closest and most dearest friend.

"No...I-I...um....s-sorry," he mumbled softly before he dropped the hammer and raced out of the destroyed medical room. Behind him he left a crying Beka still impaled and restrained to the bed.

His trembling, numb legs raced through the halls as he was constantly tripping over corpse after corpse; constantly being reminded of the monster he was. Bile rose from his aching, empty stomach as he tripped over yet one more disfigured corpse. This time he didn't get up. He hunched over, immobilized by the drive heaves that wracked his body. "H-Harper...h-help...m-me," rang through his head as the image of Beka impaled on the bed was etching it's self into the wall of his mind.

One final act still plagued him before he would allow himself to go off and die. He found his dry and cracking voice as he still gasped for the oxygen that did not seem to exist. "R-Rommie...Be-Beka's free...help her...I-I-I...left her...sorry...Don't l-look for me...tell t'others...I'm sorry........Good-bye." 

As he turned off his comms, he felt a glimmer of hope rise within his sick mind. His twisted psyche focused on the pain-filled death that was ahead of him. A monster like himself didn't deserve a nice easy death. He deserved all the horrors that the Buzz withdrawal could dish out. 

He slowly stood up on his quivering legs, hoping they would be able to carry him deep within the guts of the ship. He didn't want anyone to find him because if they did, they probably wouldn't survive the encounter. He reached into one of his many pockets, found the locator blocker he had used earlier and turned it on. Quickly he returned to his frantic race down the corridors and towards the darkest and deepest conduit he knew.

TBC!!!!!!


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: {{{{{Reviewers}}}} Thank you! Feedback makes my day! Yes, I'm an addict. 

Here y'all go. The gore is gone and replaced by even more angst. 

Enjoy!

Chapter 19

Squinting her eyes even farther, Beka focused intently on the bright light that was dancing through her eyelashes. She opened her lids wider and watched as the dance gave way to the blinding intense sterile lights on the ceiling of medical.

Once more she tried to turn her head to enjoy a more interesting view of a wall or of an empty med-bed, anything other than that bright ceiling. As her head moved an millimeter to the left, sharp pain suddenly appeared in every inch of her body. Pain from the spikes that were still driven deep into her, pain from the poison that was cursing through her stomach and intestines, pain from the acid that was still eating away at her cuts, and pain from the thousands of hair-line fractures that covered every limb. 

She gave up trying to find a new view and instead closed her eyes tightly. 'To sleep, to dream,' she quoted to herself. 'But in that sleep, what dreams may come?' She yearned for the darkness, for sweet unconsciousness, but the stimulate Harper had given her still fought away any hope of darkness. Instead, it actually was making her more alert, more aware of the pain that consumed her. 'Damn that Harper,' she cursed in her mind.

Her bloodshot eyes focused past the glaring light and onto the ceiling tile. 'One, two, three....' she began counting to herself. She was desperately trying to focus on anything but her pain and her solitude, the solitude that surrounded her in the quite medial room and the solitude that engulfed her mind. Velac was gone, nothing more than a painful nightmarish memory. She had control of her body and mind back....as much control as one can have when they are strapped down to a bed and impaled to the bone with spikes. Beka had her body back, but all she really wanted right now was no body at all.

'Fifty-four, fifty-five, fifty-six. Fifty-six ceiling tiles. That knowledge will come in handy one day, I'm sure of it,' She mused to herself. 'Now what exciting activity shall I try next?'

Blinking was her answer. Open lids, close lids, open, close. Wow, the excitement! Surprisingly, that small activity brought a weak smile to Beka's weary face. She could blink her eyes!! She, Beka Valentine, had control back. She wanted to jump up and down, to run throughout the corridors screaming at the top of her lungs, simply hearing her own voice saying the things she ordered it to say. But she couldn't even move a finger without being rewarded with great amounts of pain.

'Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five.....' She thought she was counting the drops of liquid from a leaky coolant pipe, but in reality she was the counting drops of her friends and her own blood. Unbeknown to her, the lack of motion in her neck was a godsend.

'One-hundred-fifty-six, one-hundred-fifty-seven, one-hundred-fifty-eight...' Her intense concentration was broken by a new thudding sound that filled the quite air. Footsteps. 

Footsteps meant that someone was near, someone was coming. Footsteps meant she wouldn't be alone anymore. Fear and anguish then dashed away all her hopes as the thought that the footsteps might belong to the one person she couldn't stand to ever see again....Harper. Was he coming back to finish her off? Did he need to cause her more pain, to break more of her heart? 

Her panicking mind tried to focus on other possibilities. Dylan? Trance maybe? Tyr? Maybe Harper had finished her off and it was her father coming to greet her. Maybe her mother was the owner of the mystery footsteps. Hope washed over her at the thought of seeing her mother again after all these years. She yearned to be embraced just once more by those soft and gentle arms, just as she had been so many times as a very young child. She wanted to feel the warm breath rush over her wounds before they were lovingly kissed away. 'Please, oh please,' she begged for death and for her mother.

All of her blood drained as the footsteps abruptly stopped as they neared her bed. The person was still out of view and Beka's heart was racing even faster with every agonizing moment of silence.

Finally, the tortured soul decided to take her newly regained control and take it on a test drive. "W-W-Who's th-there?" her weak voice stuttered out. 

Her only response as a rapid and shocked gasp.

**********

The rush of air flew in the android's mouth creating a deafening sound of astonishment. The sight of the metal rods gleaming out of the prone form had made her artificial skin pale, but then, as sounds of conciseness arose from the tortured body, Rommie could do nothing more but gasp. Why was Beka still conscious? Why hadn't Harper sedated her like the others? Why would he leave her awake in that much pain? Quickly, Rommie scanned Beka to make sure that the alien energy readings truly were gone. They were. That was Beka, and Beka alone, strapped to that bed in complete agony.

Regaining control of her body, the ship made flesh rushed over to her XO's side. The full picture of what had been done to Beka finally hit Rommie like a Magog swarm ship. Beka's face was etched with pain, pale from blood loss and filled with fear and heartache. A quick scan of her injures made the android gasp one more time. The fractures, the poison, the cuts, and of course the spikes which were placed ever so carefully to avoid hitting anything vital. Where in the Vedrens' name did Harper learn do to this kind of damage?

Rommie once more shook herself out of her astonishment and focused on her first officer. "Beka?" She asked as she gently pushed back some loose strands of the golden blonde hair that covered the sickly pale forehead.

"R-R-Rommie. H-help.." Beka forced out through her insanely raw throat. 

"Shh...It's gonna be ok Beka," Rommie whispered. "I'm here now. I'll sedated you and take care of you. It's gonna be okay."

A single tear rolled out of the blue eyes as a light of hope began to burn once more deep inside them. "T-Trance? ... Tyr?...D-D-Dylan...?" The weak voiced questioned.

"They're all ok. They are free and recuperating in the other room. You'll see them soon, just hold on," she reassured her patient as she brushed away the multitude of tears that now followed that lone rebel. 

A battle was raging in the androids mind. She knew she need to sedate Beka now, but an urgent question was burning away at her circuits. Against her better judgment, she decided to poise her inquiry to Beka.

She caressed the weary face as she asked the dreaded question, "Beka, um, I hate to ask you this, but, um....where did Harper go?"

At the mere mention of the name "Harper", Beka's face turned even whiter and the small glimmer of hope faded from her watering eyes. Rommie immediately regretted asking so much from her wounded friend.

"D-Don't k-know...h-he just....l-l-left me..."she gasped out through waves of both physical and psychological pain.

"Shhh, it's ok," Rommie lied as her worry circuits went into overdrive for her engineer's well being. She looked down at Beka's desperate face and realized he would have to wait. Beka needed her now and that was what Harper wanted, for her to be here for the others.

Quickly, as to make amends for not doing it earlier, Rommie searched the tray of bloody instruments for the syringe that held the sedative. Finally finding it, she turned back to her awaiting crewmate.

"It's gonna be ok Beka. This will counteract the stimulant and put you to sleep. When you wake up, all your pain will be gone." 'All of your physical pain at least,' Rommie added to herself. She knew all of her crew would have massive psychological damage after this ordeal and no amount of medicine would be able to heal those wounds.

The hiss of the syringe was followed by a blissful sigh as Beka was finally engulfed by the sweet void of nothingness.

Rommie watched as Beka's heavy eyelids gently hid the tortured eyes. The lines of fear, pain and worry were magically air-lifted off of her sickly face. 

The robotic eyes wandered down to the closest shoulder and were greeted by a shimmering spike impaled deep into the swollen and inflamed skin.

"Shit Harper, what did you do?" she cursed under her breath as she began the long and tedious process of fixing the delicate organic.

********

A second delicate organic, who was also in great need of fixing, was currently dragging himself through the cramped, dimly lit conduits that weaved deep into the heart of Andromeda.

Every inch his rail thin body moved over the smooth surfaces of the floor was a Herculean effort for the crippled human. The Buzz was disappearing from his bloodstream and his body was reacting harshly to being abandoned. A growing fever was feeding on what little strength he had left, the tremors had started to wrack his body beyond his control and the rapidly rising sense of paranoia was slowly taking over his conscious mind.

Dragging himself as fast as his failing body would allow him, he finally reached his stopping point. He really had no true destination, only to get as far away from his loved ones as possible before the withdrawal completely overtook him. And it was overtaking him now.

He struggled to rise his trembling hand up to the hatch control panel that would seal him off from any foolish rescue attempt. 'Who would want to rescue a monster like me anyways,' the depressed soul asked himself. After sealing both ends of the conduits that would soon become his grave, Harper let the tremors overtake his body as he went into a full blown seizer.

*******

The clean white medial garb that covered Beka's battered body made her look like an angel taking a short, sweet nap on a soft, fluffy cloud. Her mind was still stuck in a drug induced peaceful state and her body was now on the road to complete recovery. It had taken Rommie hours to pull out all the spikes and to stop the bleeding, even more hours to clean out all the wounds, and even more hours to pump her stomach, inject her with all the necessary medicine and nanobots and to attend to all of her fractured bones. But it was all worth it, Rommie's first officer and crew were going to be physically okay.

Mentally, well that was another matter.

Rommie stared down at all four of the peaceful sleeping faces of her "children". The white medical gowns made them look paler than they really were, but it also made them look more innocent, more fragile. Even Tyr looked less menacing with his dreadlocks gently draping over the white clothed shoulder. His eye were motionless as he existed only in his dreamless deep sleep.

Then her brown eyes fell on the one very empty bed. The empty bed that might soon hold only the corpse of her engineer. The other's should wake up in a few days as the sedatives wear off. She had done all she could for them until then and that meant that now, finally, she could focus fully on finding and fixing her Harper. 

"Any luck on finding Harper or finding a way to save him from the withdrawal?" Rommie's voice boomed in the silent medical room as she began conversing with herself.

Light flickered into form in front of Rommie's position to create a slightly altered mirror image. "Yes and no...well no and yes really. I've discovered what causes the violent reaction to the drug leaving a body. The main culprits are only two of the chemicals in the mixture of Buzz. We can create a drug that will allow Harper to slowly tapered off these substances without experiencing any of the effects of Buzz. Unfortunately, I can't locate him in order for you to administer the drug to him."

"Great, just great!" Rommie began to release her frustration through power pacing. "Why is it that you can't locate him?"

The hologram kept turning her head to keep track of the ping-ponging avatar. "I believe that he turned on that signal blocker he used earlier with the Pythos."

"Shit!" Rommie wanted her engineer back and she wanted him back now. Her pacing quickened. "There has to be some way to track him down, there has to be...."

Silence once again took over medical as the two massive computers processed all of their options. After only a few minutes, the identical faces lit up with hope as an answer came into their collective mind.

"Body heat!" they said in unison.

The hologram's head tilted back and closed her eyes. "Searching..."

Rommie had halted her pacing but had began taping her foot furiously as she awaited what was hopefully good news.

The face formed from light opened her eyes and meet with Rommie's pleading face. "Got him! There is an area of extremely elevated heat in conduit 53c, level 82...." The hologram's face filled with electronic worry.

"What?" the avatar pleaded with herself.

"If that is him, the temperature level is way too elevated. I'm getting readings of 104.5 degrees and rising. You need to get the drug to him now." Worry was starting to slip into the normally cold voice of the A.I. Deep in her circuits she had to admit that that scrawny little genius had won her over. She was already missing his annoying but reassuring presence in her matrix.

Before Rommie could even demand the instructions for making the drug, her larger self had downloaded it into her mainframe. "Thanks," she needlessly said to the A.I.

Quickly, she made up a batch of the drug that could save her Harper and filled a syringe with the mixture. Before she dashed out the door, she grabbed a medical kit. With a temperature that high, he could already be experiencing some of the worst withdrawal effects. She had no idea of what shape she would find him in.

Taking one last fleeting glance at her sleeping crew, she madly rushed out of medical and began hurdling the rotting corpses that still lined her halls.

With all of her programming, she forced a whisper through her lips, hoping desperately that by some miracle her suffering engineer could hear her. "Hang on Harper, I'm coming."

*****

"You useless ego-whore!! Every second I dream of throwing your pathetic ass off my ship! You disgusting creature!" Beka's face came within inches of Harper's sweat-filled, quivering face.

"Shut up!" he screamed at the apparition as he lunged towards it. Beka fizzled out just as Harper reached her location. He ended up crashing into the nearby wall of the tight space. "AArrgghhh!" he yelled in frustration.

Beka came back to life behind him. "Look at you, so disgusting, so pathetic. And to think I saved you. God, what was I thinking?!" The ghostly being moved closer to the quivering ghostly face. "I saved your pathetic ass time and time again and look how you repay me. Not only do you leave me in agony on that medical bed, but you actually drive stakes through me unnecessarily. I should have left you to die on that dump heap I found you on. You are the biggest mistake in my life Seamus." Beka spat out the last words like she was swinging an axe through Harper's heart.

"No... Beka..." Harper reached out to the ghost, trying desperately to connect with it, but his hand just passed through the mirage and Beka vanished. 

The normal paranoia of a Buzz withdrawal that he was expecting had turned ugly. The paranoia didn't play on his physical fears like it had the other times. He didn't feel his hairs standing up on the back of his neck expecting a Magog to jump from the shadows. He didn't feel the blood rush from his face as he gripped his knife tighter with each sound he hear. No, this time was different. This time the double dose of Buzz was playing off of his psychological fears. No amount of ammunition or fighting would ward of these demons. Harper now realized that the story he had heard about the man who had killed and raped his wife and daughters during a Buzz withdrawal was wrong. He hadn't mistaken them for ubers. The withdrawal had finally allowed the man to hear and see what they really thought of him. He had seen past their smiling masks and seen the real truth. Harper now realized that the girls and wife probably got what they deserved.

Harper's thoughts were interrupted by another wave of dry heaves. His body struggles to bring up something, anything, from his empty stomach. Not even bile was coming up anymore. He finally felt warm liquid rise up this throat. He coughed and spat the vial substance up. Fear ran across his insanely pale face as he saw what his stomach had produced. Blood, dark crimson blood. 

"Great," he muttered sarcastically out through his raw and dry throat. He sat curled up against the cold metal wall as his body continued to shiver uncontrollably. Within seconds, the cool wall had warmed and was radiating his own heat back to him. Harper pulled his aching legs closer to him and began rocking in time to his tremors. There was not a single inch on his body that wasn't yelling out for pain killers. He wheezed as he tried to take a much needed deep breath, his ribs crackled as he did so.

A deep, loud sigh filled the small space, a sigh that did not come from Harper.

"Look at yourself boy. How much more inferior can one get?" Tyr's massive image shimmered into existence before Harper's very clouded over eyes.

"Go away," the kludge muttered as he curled himself up even tighter.

"Go away? Always trying so hard to make jokes. Now why would I take orders from a kludge like you? You are the most inferior kludge I have ever had the misfortune to meet. How many times have I had to save your pathetic life? Too think I even laid down my life for...you. That mistake shall be forever be etched in my genetic code and for that I am gravely ashamed." Tyr paused to admire his sharp, flawless bone blades. "I believe it is time I resolve that mistake." In a second, Tyr had his bone blades pressed up against Harper's neck. "Go on, beg and whine just like you always do!" Tyr yelled at the trembling boy.

Harper responded by instantly grabbing his gauss gun from his belt, charging it and pointing it at the uber's stomach. "I said...go away," he hissed through clenched teeth.

Tyr looked down at the gun. His stoic face broke with a huge grin as deep laughter leapt from his diaphragm. "Try it boy." he taunted.

Harper fired. The bullet passed right through the mirage of Tyr and lodged itself in the opposite wall. Harper's face fell.

"Can't even kill a figment of your own imagination. Truly pathetic." Tyr's ghost vanished as his heavy laugh echoed through the acoustic conduit.

Harper fell forward to his hands and knees and let his head hang from his sore shoulders. "No more..." 

"No more?! What do you mean no more kluge?!" A new, yet familiar voice boomed into the conduit from hell. 

Harper looked up only to realize he was no longer in the cramped space of the conduit, but was instead back on that concrete block that he spend that hellish year with the Pythos on. He was staring at the cracks in the concrete as he laid on his stomach with his bear back exposed to the stale air. One of his regular customers, a big, towering, powerful uber who had a knack for torture, was hovering above him. 

"No more...please.." Harper's younger voice cracked out.

"HA! I have only started my lovely kludge." His tone was wickedly playful.

A crack filled the air as Harper felt the barbed cat-o-nine rake once more across his bloody back. A small yelp escaped his lips and a loud, hardy laughter filled the air. "Don't worry kludge, only a hundred more to go. Let's hope I don't lose count again like last time."

A tear fell from the youngster's battered face and magically landed on the metallic surface of the conduit floor. 

Once more Harper lunged forward as waves after wave of bloody heaves wracked his body. He clenched his good hand into a fist as an outlet for the pain. As the heaves mercifully left him, he opened his palm to see blood gushing out from four deep puncture marks.

He gave up on being semi-upright and laid down on his side, curling up into a nice tight fetal position as tears flowed freely from his eyes.

"Mr. Harper!! What do you think you're doing!? There is a ship to fix, corpses to clean up, and where do I find you!? Here, laying around crying!!" The deep High guard's captain's voice filled the previously quite space.

"You are so useless! I could find a better engineer in trash heap. Oh wait, that's where Beka found you. How desperate she must have been to take you on. I pity her so." Dylan's face now danced in front of Harper's sideways face. "We give you food, a place to sleep and look how you repay us. By torturing us! By sharing your pain! I want your homicidal scrawny ass off my ship now! Find the closest air lock and escort yourself out."

Harper stared at the illusion as the words washed over his foggy mind. He hated to admit it, but Dylan made sense. "Ok," he whispered as he started pulling his unforgiving body towards the locked access hatch. The least he could do for the kind people who had taken care of him was to take out the garbage...that garbage being him of course.

A sweet voice interrupted his painful crawling. "Dylan! No! Wait!" Harper's golden goddess joined the delusion as she blocked his path. 

A confused and straining face looked up at the wonderful being. 'Had she come to defend me,' Harper thought with much doubt. 'But what was there to defend?'

"Dylan we can't just throw him out of an airlock." A small ball of hope built up in Harper's heart. Trance continued, "The vacuum of space doesn't deserve to be littered with such trash. Plus it's too good for him, too painless. After what he did to us, he needs a nice slow agonizing death." Disgust dripped from every syllable and Harper's small ball of hope bounced away down the conduit.

"As always, you're right Trance. Let's let him die here like the weak druggy he is." 

The faces of the manically laughing Dylan and Trance circled Harper's head. "Enjoy your long awaited death Mr. Harper."

"I hope the pain will engulf you like it did to us," Trance added right before the dancing heads vanished.

Harper pulled his trembling legs in even closer as he still laid on his side. He vomited up more blood, but this time he didn't even bother getting up to do it. It was too much work. Right now, breathing was even too much work.

"Look at what we created honey, just look," a new, very familiar voice brought life into the conduit. 

A second deeper voice joined in, "I know dear. I just don't know where we went wrong."

The sounds of the voices Harper never thought he would hear again tore at every heart string he had left. The images of his mother and father appeared before him.

"We tried our best, we gave up our food for him, we gave up our blankets for him, we even gave up our lives for him. What a mistake that was," his mother said with regret engulfing her eyes.

"And to think of how many other people died for that...that...monster. There are just too many to count." Harper felt his father's steady gaze land on his cowering form. "Such a waste, such a waste..." 

Harper reached out his trembling hand, trying once more to touch the ghost of his past. "Mom...Dad...no...please.." But his pleads fell on empty ears as the image of his long-lost parents vanished just like the others. "Such a waste.." could still be heard echoing thought the conduits.

New tears ripped themselves from his eyes. Sobs and bloody heaves shook their way out of his trembling body. His pale skin was starting to turn a nice shade of blue as he wasn't able to get enough oxygen through the vomiting and sobbing. He desperately gasped for breath between the retched heaves.

"Harper...are you in there? Hang on. I'm coming," a new muffled voice entered his world of delusions. 

"N-N-No.... no more..." he gasped out between sobs. He couldn't take any more visits. He once more reached for his fully charged gauss gun.

"Harper! Answer me damn it!" The faceless voice yelled again.

"No more," he said with more control this time as the wrenching and sobs had subsided. He raised the gun up with his trembling weak arm.

The hatch creaked open and created a gentle cooling breeze as the body-heated air of the sealed conduit wafted out above the cooler air that was flowing in from outside.

"No...no more...can't...not from you Rommie," he sputtered out as he took aim.

Rommie's eyes widened as she caught her first glimpse of Harper. "HARPER!! NO!!" Rommie lunged towards the armed engineer.

"No more.." he said with determination as he pulled the trigger of the gauss gun that he had aimed at his own head.

The android had leapt just in time to knock the firing gun way from it's intended target. The bullet, just like the other, left the gun and entered the far wall, hitting nothing but air in between. She easily wrestled the smoldering gun away from the weak and trembling hand.

"HARPER!! What do you think you're doing!?"

"Killing a monster," he whispered through trembling blood coated lips.

Rommie took in the shuddering, pitiful excuse for a living being that knelled before her. Harper was now so far gone that she feared that even if he did survive they would never get him back. But still, she had to try.

"Seamus, look at me. You are NOT a monster. You are a hero! You saved me from the Pythos and you saved the crew from the Calastors. Do you understand that. You did good," she said as she drew herself closer to him. Even a foot away, she could feel the intense heat that was radiating off of him.

Cold, dead eyes looked into hers sending a wave of electronic chills up her spine. 

"No, I'm a monster...I...I..." His sorrow filled voice was cut off as a massive seizer took hold of his body.

"HARPER!" Rommie yelled as she raced toward the convulsing body, catching his head before it hit the hard ground.

Quickly she ran a scan on his body and realized that he was not only having a seizer but was also going into cardiac arrest.

"HARPER HANG ON!" the terrified android yelled.

Seamus Harper's already cold, empty eyes gave Rommie one last long gaze before they rolled up into his skull. Rommie watched in horror as his shattered heart finally gave up on it's short and tedious battle with life and stopped beating.

TBC........


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Ok, these a/n's are getting kinda repetitive. Once more huge thanks to my reviewers. I love reviews. I can't get enough reviews. I'm now addicted to them. So help feed my addiction :^) Um, nothing else to say except I hope this brings a tear to your eyes. 

Chapter 20

His heart was motionless as his chest laid flat...still, unmoving. Only the whites of his eyes could be seen through the small slits that were made by his half closed eyelids. The convulsions had left his body along with his tortured soul.

"NO!!!" The android yelled, as very human tears poured from her artificial tear ducts. 'Damn it Harper, why did you have to build me so human,' she cursed the corpse that laid before her.

She forced her wild stare off of the lifeless body of Harper and rushed out to get the med-kit that was lying in wait just outside the hatch. Roughly, she wiped away the tears so she could see where she was going.

"No, can't be happening, no," she desperately tried to make herself believe that this true reality was in fact fake.

Running back to Harper's body, she grabbed the defibrillator paddles from the kit. "Damn it, Harper, live!" she yelled as the applied the paddles to his dead chest. 

A bust of energy surged through his lifeless heart.

"Come on." Her added begging brought on no new heartbeats.

Again she shocked him.

"You can't leave me!" A torrent of tears escaped her eyes as his heart still didn't respond.

Once more, she applied the paddles and once more Harper ignored her. 

"Seamus Zealanzy Harper! You listen good. We still need you. I know, it's selfish and you want to go, but we need you. We love you! Damn it Harper, COME BACK!!" She forced out past the waves of sobs that wracked her artificial body. 

Again, she placed the paddles on his chest. "Please...don't leave me," she begged one last time and she sent a larger charge through his body.

Then she heard it. The most wonderful sound she had ever heard in the universe. A small, very weak contraction of his heart. 

The defending sound was followed by a long pause of silence. Rommie's tears began to double as the partner of that sound refused to show up. She placed the paddles on his chest again but before she could use them the second most wonderful sound in the universe filled the conduit. The Dub to the Lub finally showed up to the dance.

Gradually, more and more Lubs and Dubs filled the dance floor 

Then she felt it, under the paddles she still had resting against his small chest...movement, small, slow movement. He was breathing. Rommie joined him in sucking in the stale air of the cramped space as her long held breath final broke. She had her Harper was back.

To her great surprise, the blue of his eyes slowly rolled back down as his lids fluttered open to reveal the hazed over eyes fighting to focus. 'Must be the Buzz,' she thought, 'he should be unconscious after that.'

A harsh cough fought to escape his chest, blood rose up from that battle. "R-R-Rommie...why?.." He struggled to get out each letter.

"Harper?" Rommie asked with her concerned-laced voice as she gently lifted his head up into her lap. "Why what?"

He was having trouble focusing on her and licked his dry, bloody lips as he waited for his strength to return enough to speak. "W-Why...save...m-me...want to...d-die." The words battled fiercely to escape the pull of gravity from his body.

"Don't say that, you don't mean it," Rommie pleaded with him as she gently caressed his filthy stubbly face.

"Yes...please, go away....leave me...d-deserve this," he closed his eyes hoping despratly to fall back into that sweet darkness Rommie had pulled him so violently from.

Rommie gently, but yet forcefully, adjusted Harper's face so he would have to look into her waterier eyes. "Listen to me, my genius engineer. We had a deal, remember? You fix me, I fix you. Well I'm doing my bit now, ok? You DO NOT, do you hear me, DO NOT, deserve this. In words you would say, what you deserve is a freakn' hero's welcome style parade. I will not let you die like this, from your stupid, self-imposed death sentence. Do you understand me Seamus? Do you?!"

His only response was a small tear that fell from his bloodshot, clouded over eyes, followed by a mumble of "Go away."

Rommie was growing frustrated and it showed in her blazing eyes. A deep growl could be heard rising up from her throat. She hastily reached over to the med-kit and pulled out the syringe that held Harper's salvation. She held it up before his empty eyes. "Do you see this? This is why you are not going to die today. It's a Buzz antidote. See what perks come from living on the most powerful computer in the universe."

She hoped he would be happy to have a cure. She hoped her jocular comment would be greeted by a sparkle in his eyes or even by a minuscule upturn of his lips, but instead that cold gaze stayed eerily constant.

She brought the cure closer to his body. 

"No," he grunted as he swatted away her hand. "D-Don't want it."

"Harper, I don't care. You're getting it. Ship's orders." Once more she brought the syringe towards his prone body, but then Harper suddenly came back to life.

With more strength than either thought he had, he jumped up off the floor and pushed Rommie and her evil cure away.

"I said no! Leave me! NOW!" He yelled at the top of his aching lungs. 'She's trying to poison me, drug me maybe, to do her bidding, it has to be. Why would she want me around like this. Why would she want to save a monster?' paranoid thought after paranoid thought flew through Harper's hazy mind.

Rommie hunched over in the low clearance of the conduit, syringe griped tightly in one hand and an angry, frustrated fist was forming in the other. "I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU!! So, save us both time and energy and get your scrawny ass over here and take this shot!!!"

Harper too was hunched over but he was trembling like a palm tree during a hurricane. Sweet was pouring off his face as he was constantly struggling to keep his attacker in focus. "D-Don't you get it R-Rommie? H-Harper is dead, lost in that massacre, lost in the torture." He paused to take a gasping breath. "A-A-All that's left is this monster and he deserves to die. He HAS to die." Another deeper breath. "SO LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Rommie's determined eyes locked onto the cowering, screaming form. "No." She said calmly as she stepped toward the trembling creature.

"G-Go a-away... p-please...for-forget...m-m..." Yet another seizer overtook him as he crashed to the ground. Blood was gurgling out of his mouth as more darker, blood was flowing freely from his nose.

"HARPER!!" Rommie's blood curdling scream could be heard miles down the conduit. She raced over to the violently convulsing body and immediately injected him with the life-saving drug he had fought so hard to avoid. She then cradled his head in her hands as she waited for the seizer to pass, all the while, making sure his airway was clear.

"Don't do this to me Seamus," she ordered to the convulsing human. Fits of bloody coughs were jerked up from his chest and his eyelids were unable to make up their minds as to what to do. "I need you Harper, I love you....Fight, Seamus, fight."

Slowly the drug worked it's way into his bloodstream. First, the convulsions died down till not even a tremor was left. Then, the coughing gave way to shallow gasping breaths as his heart beat slowed to a sluggish beat. But his eyes were still fighting with themselves. To open or to close, that was the question. 

He forced his gaze on the lovely head that hovered above him as he struggled once more to find his voice. "W-Wh-Why?" 

Rommie looked him right in his heavy eyes, "Because we love you."

A slightly confused look crossed Harper's face for a second right before the sedative in the drug finally overtook the Buzz stimulant. His lead-lined eyelids gently closed and covered up those anguished filled orbs.

For the first time in over ten day, Seamus Harper was at rest. Like all the others, his lines of pain and worry were lifted from his face, but unlike the others, they left behind faint shadows of themselves. With time and help, they might leave his young face.

Rommie gazed down at her sleeping, troubled soul. She bent over and placed her lips on his bloody forehead. "It's gonna be ok Harper. We will get you through this. We will all get through this...together."

She then maneuvered to gingerly pick up the feather-light body. 'He's too light,' Rommie worried, 'maybe only seventy pounds, max.' 

With all the care of a mother carrying a newborn, she brought him out of the darkness and confined of the conduits and into the light and openness of the corridors. She carried him all the way to medical, whispering gentle reassurances to him the whole way. 

Once there, she rested his ravaged body on the soft mattress of the awaiting med-bed, brushed away a few rebellious strands of his filthy hair off of his face, and stepped back. She gazed longingly at her reunited crew. Tyr, Trance, Beka, Dylan and now Harper were all sleeping peacefully, all in the same room, all finally back together.

"It's gonna be ok," Rommie whispered to herself knowing full well of the grueling battle that still laid ahead of them.

TBC.....


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Huge thanks to my reviewers, especially Bolo who kinda inspired this part. Thanks Bolo!! And remember, my ego is never big enough! :^P Enjoy!

Chapter 21

The gray liquid ran down Harper's battered face as the soft gentle sponge wiped away the weeks worth of grime, blood, sweat and dirt. Rommie dunked the now filthy sponge back into to the bowl of soapy water and felt the warm water lick up against her sensitive skin. She lifted the sponge and twisted the malleable object, letting the dirty soapy water flow down the surface of her hands and fall into the bowl like a rain shower.

Once again she gently placed the soft cleansing tool against her engineer's bruised and cut cheek. As she was wiping away the layers and layers of grime, she could, for the first time, see what her crew did to the earther. Deep purple bruises covered his swollen eyes, a huge gash cut across his forehead while many smaller cuts and bruises coated the rest of his young looking face. 

She ran the sponge across his lips only to create new bleeding from the chapped and cut tender surfaces. She quickly treated the newly opened wounds just like she had all the others. 

Once more she felt the warm liquid run down her hands as she gazed down at the motionless form that laid in front of her. The now spotless face seemed so out of place on the filthy body and topped off with the bloody spiked hair. It looked as though someone had transplanted his face which was a very unnerving thought, even for an android. Even more unnerving was the huge swollen mass that rose up off his neck. His dataport.

With even more care than before, she placed the dripping sponge near the now blacked port. After being repetitively ran over by the sponge, more reds and silvers began to shine through. She did an in depth scan to see what kind of damage had been done. The sensitive and delicate nerve endings that connected to the hardware were severely burned which basically meant that his port was swollen shut from the inside. She injected him with specialized nanobots that should repair the damage, but it would still be a long time, maybe even a year, until he was able to use the port. 'Great, more happy news for Harper,' she thought sarcastically.

She threw the completely filthy sponge to the floor where it landed with a soft wet splat right next to the other three sponges she had already ran through. Only his face and neck were cleaned and treated and she had already used up four sponges. She hoped Trance had gone sponge crazy and bought out the drift on their last supply run.

Now that his exposed skin was done, she was going to have to remove his clothing. His clothing were so disgusting that she thought they could get up and walk themselves out of the airlock. Dark crimson dried blood, fresh bright red blood, blacked dust from the conduits, yellow stains from sweat, and some other mystery colors that she didn't even want to know what the sources were. She had to resort to her memory banks to figure out what color his long sleeve shirt was originally. It turned out to be a nice bright cheery orange.

She griped a pair of scissors and slowly cut his stiff shirt completely off. Her circuits paused as the sick injures played out before her eyes. Unlike his face, the dirt and blood hadn't penetrated his thick shirt. All of his injuries here were plainly visible. His left upper arm caught her eye first. It was swollen to twice it's normal size and colored lovely shades of blues, purples and blacks. A scan revealed that the bone was too shattered to be repaired, it would have to be replaced. Luckily, it was a simple operation, but with Harper's pathetic Earth-ghetto raised body, the recovery time would be twice as long. His arm would have be in a sling for at least a month. Then the sick realization of who had caused such damage to him crossed her mind. How would Trance react to knowing what she had done to Harper? Quickly she compartmentalized the thought of the mental rehabilitation of the crew. She'd have to worry about that later. First she had to finish cleaning up Harper and then perform the operation to repair his arm.

She returned to surveying the rest of his torso. Bruises were everywhere, covering every inch of skin. Three huge blacked circular bruises covered his sickly misshapen ribs that rose out of the famished body. He did have broken ribs, but the queasy forms that the ribcage took on was not caused by the recent injuries. Those injures were old, very old. Rommie's circuits started buzzing. In all the time Harper had been on board, she had never seen any more of his body than his face and his lower arms. He had always called privacy mode to simply change his clothing and he would throw a huge fit if anyone tried to take his shirt off for a simple medical examine. Could this be why he almost went into heat stroke that one time the environmental system went out of control. Everyone else was either shirtless in boxers or in a sports bra and shorts, but Harper would not take off his heavy cargo pants and tee-shirt even though sweat was pouring off of him and he was about to pass out from the heat. Was this deformity what he had been hiding? Did the others know? Trance had to, she had been the only one to treat him during the Magog infestation. This would explained why Trance was always so protective of Harper while he was in medical, not letting anyone else see his body, always turning on privacy mode. 

Rommie looked closer at Harper's ravished body. Old scars covered even older scars, deep impressions dipped into his skin, and almost every visible bone had been broken. None of the breaks had been set correctly which created a rising, twisting sculpture out of his skeleton. Then something started to click. Data was racing through her processors as a pattern arose from the chaotic mosaic of his scars.

"No.." she gasped out in a whisper. "No, it can't be."

But she knew it had to be. It all made sense now, all the facts fit nicely into place. The small deep scars, the circular indentations that laid in very specific locations, the thousands of healed fractures that she could read off of every bone in his pitiful body. 

Everything Harper had done to the others, to Dylan, to Trance, to Tyr and even the horrors he committed on Beka, all those tortures, Harper had learned them all first hand. Harper had experienced all the same pains, all the same tortures...and more.

Rommie's mouth was still hanging open as her hands began to quiver a bit. Curiosity then took the better of her as she gently rolled him over on his side to look at what had been done to his back. Her jaw dropped even farther when she saw it.

There was not one inch of smooth skin. Hills and valleys were created on his back by the layers of scars. There were long deep whip marks, short small scars like the ones that now covered the rest of her crew, and a whole other mix-match of different scars that she couldn't even tell where one started and the others began. Like his front, his ribs were sickly but his spine overpowered the grotesque ribs. Instead of running straight up his back, it slowly twisted its way up like a old knotty branch. 

More information clicked in her head as she let him back down on his mutilated back. This explained why he would always slightly flinch whenever anyone touched him. She read server nerve damage that could cause him intense pain if touched. How it must be like to feel pain anytime someone touched you. She also read that many of his nerves on his back where completely destroyed. She remembered all the comforting backrubs Beka had given to him over the years, and this whole time he couldn't even feel her hand on his back, he couldn't feel her comfort. A small lone tear rolled down her face.

She bent over the peacefully sleeping form and pressed her lips against his clean forehead. She then moved the subtle lips down next to his ear and caressed his other cheek with her soft hand. She whispered tenderly into his ear, "It will all be okay Seamus. You're safe here. I'll never let anyone else hurt you like that again. You're safe." She stayed, rubbing her cheek up against his. She couldn't bring herself to let go, she never wanted to let go. She couldn't bear give an opening for the cruelties of life to attack her engineer once more. She wanted to erase all the damage that was done to him, to hold him when he was an infant and protect him from all the evils he would face. But all she could do was let her tears roll down his young tortured face.

After a few minutes, she broke her embrace that Harper would have never allowed when he was awake. "Must get back to work," she ordered herself. She continued to patch up the broken ribs, the bruises and the few remaining random cuts. She cut off the rest of his filthy clothing and quickly threw the wrenching fabrics out the closest airlock. She washed his hair only to find more deep cuts and bruises on his skull. Finally, after hours of patching up the delicate organic, she was done. 

Harper was clean and was in the nice white medical garbs. His left arm was incased in a thin white cast and he was still sleeping soundly. Like the others he had numerous tubes running in and out of his ravaged body. Food nurturance, nanobots, fluids, and medicine were coursing through all of the sleeping bodies.

She stared down at her crew, her entire crew. They were everything to her, each special in their own way, each held a piece of her heart...even Tyr. She knew she should have stayed detached, but with so few crew, she found it so very hard not to spend time analyzing each of them, getting to know each of them so intimately. She knew all of them would fully recover physically and that they should be waking up in a few days, but the unknown psychological damage that was done constantly plagued her mind no matter how much she compartmentalization she did. 

But she knew she couldn't just watch over them until they woke up, there was still a lot of work to be done. She knew that the entire ship needed to be cleaned up before any of them saw or smelled the carnage Harper had caused. They did not need the gruesome horror of decaying bodies to twist the knife that was already sticking out of their psyches. 

So Rommie turned her back on her healing crew and headed out to over see the Mari-bots in clean up duty. She was sure there was an intestine on some ceiling with her name on it.

TBC......


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Sorry for the wait, but RL has been getting in the way. Thanks again for all the reviews :^D Reviews make me happy! Well here's the next installment. Let's see how our favorite crew is doing.....

Chapter 22

Six days ago, Rommie left Harper's side to begin the clean up of the ship-turned-morgue. Half of the job was easy as she was able to open half of herself up to the vacuum of space, but the other half she had to clean by hand. That was unless the she wanted to be murdered by the crew for venting all of their supplies and belongs out into space. So for seven days now, Rommie and her merry band of Meri-Bots have been up to their eyeballs in blood, guts, gore, and ironically, eyeballs. Shoveling, washing down whole decks, polishing, sterilizing and scrubbing ceilings. 

She had only been able to get three-fourths of the ship done when she was forced to stop by Tyr's awakening on the fifth day. She stayed by his side as he fought to regain consensus for hours, holding his hand and whispering encouraging words the whole time, until finally she saw his deep brown eyes staring up at her with recognition. A huge weight dropped off of Rommie's shoulders. A few hours later, another weight fell as Trance showed movement of life. After a couple hours of struggling to wake fully, the golden warrior greeted Rommie with a warm smile. As the avatar watched over the two fidgety organics for one more day of bed rest, she couldn't keep her eyes off the remaining members of her crew, all still deep asleep and healing. How she yearned to bask in Dylan's glowing smile or to secretly laugh at one of Beka's jokes or to feel her eyes rolling deep into the back of her head as Harper hit on her. But right now, she had to be content with having just Tyr and Trance awake and active.

*****

A day later, the omnipotent AI was silently watching the large tight muscles expand and contract under his dark rich mocha glistening skin. She watches as his face tightens as he battles against gravity and the strain of his own body weight. His muscles were still weak from laying dormant in a bed for six days. She watched as he heaved his body up again, rising his strong chin above the bar. She watched and was amazed to understand how much this rag-tag crew meant to her and how happy she was to at least have two of her organics once again walking around inside of her. If only the others would wake up and join them. 

Still captivated by the electrical music Tyr's muscles were giving off as he once more lifted his huge frame off the floor, Andromeda still had not relayed the message she was meant to give him. 'Get a hold of yourself girl,' she ordered as she shook herself out of the trance from the music.

As her hologram to appear in front of Tyr, the electrical music suddenly jumped up in speed and beat. She liked it even more.

A small playful smile was created on the hologram's lips. "Sorry I scared you Tyr."

Tyr released his grip on the bar as his body fell gingerly to the ground. "You did not scare me ship," he replied full of dignity. Beads of sweat were rolling down his muscles like cars on a roller coaster.

"Mmm..." Holo-Rommie nodded, playing along with Tyr's lie. "Anyways, I wanted to inform you that Dylan is starting to show signs of movement."

Tyr had picked up a towel and was now wiping the lustrous sweat from his hard body. "I'm to assume the golden girl is already at his side?" he asked in his normal emotionless voice. Andromeda and Rommie were having a difficult time ascertaining what psychological damage Tyr had received during the hellish encounter. Outwardly he seemed normal, but what was going on inside his head was, as always, a mystery.

"She's on her way as we speak." Andromeda tried to read Tyr's reaction to the news, but he was just blank. Did he even care about the rest of the crew? Did he care if they ever woke up?

Tyr threw the towel onto a nearby bench, grabbed his shirt and began to walk towards the door. "I guess I better go and check on our fearless captain too." He pulled on his shirt and strolled out the door.

The hologram flickered around to watch him leave. "Mm, maybe he does care."

********

Currently, Trance was racing down one of the newly cleaned corridors they were allowed to access. Andromeda had shut off access to any decks or areas that she hadn't cleaned yet, which Trance thought was a very wise idea. She really didn't want to slip on a liver as she sprinted towards medical. 

She really wanted to be by Dylan's side as he woke up, she wanted him to hear her voice encouraging him to pull himself out of the void of unconscious. But most of all, she wanted to see where he was mentally. How had he taken the knowledge of the insane amount of violence that Harper was capable of? How did he cope with the torture? And what damage did being controlled by an alien inflict on his human mind.

The last question intrigued her the most for selfish reasons. She had been feeling so very empty since Nixic had left. Her mind was so quite...too quite. In fact, she had spent most of her single day free from medical in Harper's workshop, blasting his rock music, just trying to end the numbing silence of her lonely mind.

She was also keeping a close watch on Tyr to see if he had been affected by the mental invasion. But like to Andromeda, the man was a complete enigma. He was acting like nothing had happen, like his body was not covered in tiny fading scars. She hoped desperately that is was not an act and that the strong Kodiak was truly fine.

The running golden form slowed to a walk as she saw the doors to medical come into view. Ambling into the smaller secondary medical room, she was greeted with Rommie attentively watching over Dylan like a hawk. In the other two occupied beds laid Beka and Harper. Both still looked horrible and near death. Harper was barely more than a pale, sickly skeleton and Beka was covered in swollen bruises from the thousands of hairline fractures. She was also deathly pale from the blood lose from the impalement. Trance couldn't even bring herself to image the damage that was done to their minds and to their friendship. 

She walked up to the two moving beings in the room. "How is he?" she asked Rommie while she stared down at Dylan with pain in her eyes.

"Still trying to wake up," the avatar answers as she gently rubbed his hand.

Trance reached down and took hold of Dylan's other hand. "Come on Dylan, join the land of the living. Wake up please, we need you."

His eyelids fluttered to revile the smallest slit of white.

"Fight Dylan, we know you can do it," Rommie prodded as she caressed his face. "Wake up now!" She ordered in a stronger, louder voice. 

Still only slight movement and fluttering eyes.

"CAPTAIN DYLAN HUNT! REPORT FOR DUTY...NOW!!" A deep powerful voice filled the entire room, making the girls jump in surprise and fear.

Not only did the women jump, but the man on the bed flew up to a sitting position and began to sputter out words. "Yes Sir, sorry Sir, Captain Hunt, reporting for duty, Sir."

Slowly his eyes started to focus and bewilderment filled his face. "Huh? What?" He mumbled out.

"Lie back down Dylan," Rommie said with a giggle as she pushed the nervous man back down.

Tyr strolled up to the group and looked down at Rommie with a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Sorry I scared you Rommie." He then looked down at the still flustered Dylan. "Good morrow, sir."

Trance glanced up at the towering Tyr. "Nice work, General Anasazi."

The stoic man glanced back down at her and for a short moment they shared a small smirk together. Even though it only lasted a second, both Rommie and the AI caught the playful exchange. Joy buzzed through their circuits as they basked in the friendly interactions of their crew and family.

On the bed below, Dylan was slowly calming down and letting his memories flood back into his mind. "Crap," he whispered as everything finally hit him. His confused expression fell into a depressed gaze.

Rommie noticed and reached out to her captain. She took his face in her hand. "It's okay, everything is okay. We are all fine. The ship is not damaged, all of the alien invaders are dead thanks to Harper, and...." Rommie stopped as Dylan's expression changed dramatically when she mentioned Harper. Before she could ask why, Dylan jumped back up and began yelling.

"HARPER!!!" He growled out in furious anger. Anger none of the others had ever seen the captain display before. "I want that maniac off my ship NOW!! I don't care if he's not conscious, I don't care if he's on death's doorstep!! I want his murderous ass off my ship and out of my life forever!"

Silence greeted his outburst as the shocked faces of all around him, even Tyr, were locked onto the raving stranger.

Trance was the first to find her voice. "Dylan! You don't mean that. He saved us! He saved all of us and he saved the ship and countless others from the horrors of the Pythos and Calastors. He only did what he had to...you have to understand that."

Dylan just growled and grew angrier. "NO! He did more! He took the opportunity to take vengeance on Nietzscheans! He didn't have to make bombs that could melt people or that could burn them to a crisp. And he definitely didn't have to torture us like that! Don't you remember that!? Or did he only torture me!? Is it only me he hates!? He's a monster and is not fit to be on, or even near, a High Guard ship! I want him off!" His eyes were bugging out of his head and were filled with hate and disgust.

Trance glanced over to Rommie and whispered, "Are you sure that the alien is truly gone? Could there be brain damage?"

Rommie's face was full of worry and confusion. "No, this is him. That's Dylan. There are no signs of any of the alien energy and the brain scans I ran on everyone came up normal."

"I can hear you, you know," an annoyed Dylan rumbled. "It is me, all me. I've just finally been shown the light, seen past Harper's lies and I refuse to have someone like that," he glanced over at Harper's sleeping form with disgust, "on my ship, in my Commonwealth or even in my life. I never want to see his lying, betraying, murderous face again!!"

Tyr had kept quite this whole time, just listing and watching, but now he was stepping in. He pushed Trance aside and looked Dylan dead in his raging eyes. He began to speak in a harsh, but even and calculating tone. "Captain Hunt. That...someone...risked his life and sanity to save us all. He deserves your utmost respect and gratitude, not your blind, close-minded hatred. Yes, he did resort to his violent past ways to save us, but if he had not, then you sir, would be enjoying the destruction of some peaceful and innocent planet right now. So, sir, I suggest you get over your high ideals and come to terms with having your savior in your commonwealth, on your ship and in your life. Good day sir." With that Tyr turned on his heals and strolled out of medical leaving three speechless crewmates behind.

"He has no clue of what he's talking about," Dylan pouted as he crossed his arms over his puffed out chest and laid back down.

******

A day of bed rest later, Dylan was out walking the corridors of his ship. He wanted to be jogging like normal, but thanks to that psycho, he was still too weak to run. He was, though, very content to just be out of medical. The entire day of forced bed rest was agony. All Dylan wanted to do was to feel the control he had over his own body once more. To feel the movement of the leg he ordered to move, to whistle whatever tune he felt like. Ah, he was so enjoying his walk and freedom and especially being away from Harper. What was worst about the day in medical was that he had to spend it lying next to that monster, that sleeping beast of a human. If "it" could even be called a human.

Dylan wanted so badly to pick up that skeleton of a boy, carry him to the closest airlock and throw him out like one would to any piece of garbage. Earlier today he had actually tried to take out the trash, but Rommie was constantly hovering over the boy like HE was her captain! 'She's suppose to obey me, not some murdering mudfoot!' Dylan thought angrily as the rage was building up inside. His pace quickened.

Flashes of the massacre raced through his mind, flashes of Harper's twisted smile growing larger as the pile of melting Pythos grew larger. Dylan broke into a jog. Flashes of that mudfoot standing over him with a knife increased the rage. Flashes of the acid falling into his deep cuts and the pain it caused forced Dylan's nice jog to morph into a full out sprint.

He couldn't stand to see that backstabbing betraying engineer again! To think, he trusted him with his ship! With his avatar! With his life! How naive could one be?!

Dylan's lungs were on fire as he finally collapsed against one of the nice clean walls. He hung his sweat pouring head between his legs as he gasped for air. Rage was still burning in his heart. Then flashes of his own fists pummeling Harper's face flew into his mind. A small smile appeared on the exhausted man's face.

******

Beka's head tossed and turned. Her hair flipped around on top of the soft pillow. For hours she had been trying to claw her way out of the deep void of unconscious that surrounded her. And for hours, Trance, Rommie, Dylan and Tyr had been standing over her, cheering her on.

They had tried bribing her with new Holo-disks, threatening her with damaging the Maru, and even pleading with her through tear choked voices. Still nothing worked as she was still climbing up the infinite wall of darkness.

"Move aside, I have an idea," Tyr spoke up as he moved up next to Beka's tossing face.

Dylan stepped back and covered his ears. "Oh great, here we go again." Small smiles appeared on Rommie's and Trance's faces.

But Tyr did not yell this time, he only lowered his head towards the comatose woman. He gently stroked her face with his handsome hands as his lips neared her ear. "Wake up sleeping beauty," he whispered before he brushed his lips on hers. The soft touch magically turned into a passionate and gentle kiss.

Stifled giggles and gasps could be heard from the peanut gallery.

Tyr released his lips from hers, rose up, stepped back and looked into the wide open shining blue eyes of Beka. A small smile of bliss was tugging on her lips.

"He has a gift," Trance laughed over to Rommie. Tyr gave the giggling girls the look of death.

Confusion quickly filled Beka's face as the excitement of the awakening wore off. "Wha--What happened?" she sputtered out.

The group re-surrounded Beka so they were all in her line of site. Trance was once more the first to speak, "Beka, you're here, on the Andromeda...safe. How do you feel?"

"Like I've been hit by a Magog world ship....twice. What....." Horror filled her face. The memories were coming back with a furry. The deaths, the loss of control, Harper's betrayal, her betrayal. She turned her face away from her adopted family. Unfortunately, she turned her head towards her adopted little brother who was lying in the bed next to her. Her eyes widened as she saw his hollow face with his eyes lifelessly closed. He looked very much dead.

The other's could hear her heart breaking as the pieces fell to the floor in a shower of shards. Rommie reached out to her suffering first officer. She took her face in her hands and forced the unblinking eyes off of the sleeping engineer. "He's ok, he's alive." Hope didn't fill the glazed over eyes, only more sorrow appeared.

"Say something," Dylan ordered in concern, fearful of the silence that was coming from his normally sassy first officer.

"Can I be alone?" she asked in a quite broken voice.

"Of course." "Yah." "Sure." "Whatever you need, my lady." Echoed from the others.

The group started to head for the door but were stopped in their tracks as Beka spoke up once more.

"No....I mean, can you move...him..?" Her head indicated who she meant with a weak nod towards Harper's bed. "Or me...I really don't care." Her voice sounded defeated.

The others exchanged worried glances, but it was Dylan's smug, sick look that made Tyr's fist curl up. 

"Um, sure, Beka. Whatever you need," Rommie replied unsure how to handle the crumbling undoing of her crew. She had wanted them awake and together, but now she truly realized how much work was still ahead of them all to achieve that dream. 

Seeing that Harper was still hooked up to too many machines, they decided to move Beka to her quarters. They figured she would be happier there as well and easier to keep her resting and in bed. Trance had offered up the Maru, but Rommie wanted to keep an eye on Beka. She was concerned of what Beka might try in this depressed state.

Tyr and Dylan gently carried the exhausted Beka down the corridors. All that could be heard in the hallways were the sounds of four pairs of boots hitting the deck plates. Behind the men walked Trance and Rommie carrying the medical equipment Beka still needed. They were constantly exchanging worried glances as the silence extended onward.

Once comfortably in her own bed and away from Harper, Beka quickly settled in. All had left but Trance who at the side of the bed finishing hooking up Beka's IV.

"Beka, do you want to talk about it?" Trance asked as innocently as her golden self could.

Beka just looked away with that distant gaze glued on her face. "No...not right now. I just can't bear to see...him...right now...maybe not ever again." The last part was said in a low whisper as a tear snuck out of her tired eyes. Beka turned away from Trance even more.

The science officer looked down at her friend's arm that laid below her. Bruised, swollen, and cut. No one but Rommie had seen the bigger wounds, the ones caused by the stakes. Trance could only imaging the preverbal stake that was now wedged between Beka and Harper. It hurt so much to see such a strong friendship crumble when it was needed the most. 

Trance broke off from her depressed thought to speak quietly to her boss. "Do you want me to leave?"

There was a long pause before the soft "No" escaped from Beka's cracked lips.

Trance took her cue and crawled next to Beka on the bed. She embraced her suffering friend as she curled up next to her. There they laid for hours, both awake and in silence, simply savoring in each other's comforting presence.

TBC.....


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: As always, I love the reviews! Thanks so much! Here is the next part, the healing can begin...or can it? And don't worry, we still got a good 8 chapters to go. 

Enjoy!

Chapter 23

Three days later, Trance was still by Beka's side, but this time she was urging Beka to crawl out of the safety of the bed. 

"Beka, come on, we need you to get your muscles moving again. All the fractures have healed, the bruises are fading and the...um...other...um, injuries are well on their way to recovery. You need to get out of bed." Trance pleaded as she pulled on Beka's firmly grasped covers.

Beka just laid curled up in the bed with the warm safe sheets encased tightly around her wounded body. She was in her own little cocoon and was unable to face her new world. A world where she had threatened the crew with death, where she had beat her little brother, and where said brother had brutally tortured her. She could still see his face as he slammed the hammer down on one of the spikes, driving it deeper into her body. She pulled the covers tighter around her.

"Come on Beka," whined Trance as she continued to futilely pull on the blue comforter. 

"Go away," the cocooned being responded in a mumble.

"No, get up!"

"No." The covers moved their way up to encompass Beka face as well.

Trance had had enough. She reached for the sheets and yanked them with all of her hidden strength. The fabric went flying across the room along with Beka who hit the floor with a thud and a groan. The concerned friend walked over and kneeled down to her cowering comrade. "Look, I know how much you hurt. We are all hurting and we all need each other to recover. We need you Beka."

The freighter captain looked over to her mysterious golden friend. She wanted to tell Trance all she felt, all of her fears, all of her anguish, but the words just couldn't find their way to her mouth. Tears built up behind her eyes, but like the words, they would not fall.

The perceptive Trance could see the glazing over in the shunned away eyes. She drew herself closer to her troubled friend and put her arm around her. "Please Beka, work with me. We will get through this. Trust me."

Beka's eyes widened in anger as Trance spoke those last two little words. Trust me. Harper had said those words to her on many occasions and where did that trust get her. On a bed, being brutally tortured, that's where. She put her trust in him, she believed him all the time he would freeze up and cower behind her while she protected him But he never really needed any protection! He used her, he lied to her, he let her risk her life thousands of times when he could have easily protected them. Hell, he took out three thousand Pythos single handedly...literally! And now Trance was telling her to trust her! Beka's eyes started to bulge with the rising pent up anger.

Then, a second later, it burst.

Beka roughly pushed Trance off of her and jumped off the floor. "TRUST YOU!? TRUST YOU!!?? I don't even know you! What species are you Trance? Huh? What's the matter, can't answer! What are you? Why are you gold? You've never answered any questions! I know nothing about you! Trust you? How? Trust you...ha...that's rich," Beka mumbled the last part as she began to wobble on her unsteady legs. She steadied herself with her hand on the nearby wall.

The shocked Trance had just processed the rant and was getting to her feet. 'At least she's out of bed now,' she thought. She walked over to her still fuming friend. "Beka, how can you say that? I've never let you down and I never will. We're family Beka." She reached her hand out her boss.

Swatting away the hand of friendship, Beka continued to yell. "FAMILY!! My family is dead or insane. I've been betrayed once by family and am not gonna be hurt again! Families are for suckers. Now just go, go and leave me alone. I'm sick of you and your goldenness." Beka turned her back on Trance only to feel the traitor's hand grasp her shoulder. 

"Beka, please, we're..."

Trance's sentence was cut short by Beka's fist making hard contact with her golden jaw. A loud crack filled the otherwise silent room.

Still standing, Trance was cradling her wounded mouth in her hand while the stare of death radiated from her eyes and landed squarely on her attacker. Beka returned that gaze.

Complete silence engulfed the room....

********

Up in command, Dylan was morbidly searching through the records of the encounter with the Pythos. He flipped through images of the boarding, of the explosions, and of the smiling face of his once trusted friend, until finally he came across what he was looking for: The ship's records of the days of torture. Unfortunately, the only recordings were of the sounds radiating out of medical and flowing out into the hallway where Rommie's sensors were still active. Dylan activated the file.

Tyr begging for the little man to stop.

Trance crying and screaming in pain.

He heard his voice yelling in anger.

Beka desperately screaming for help. 

Dylan's heart broke for his crew. Then anger filled the shattered organ. How could they protect HIM! Him, the one who made them endure unthinkable pain. Him, the one who made Trance and Beka cry out in anguish. Harper could have found another way, he should have found another way. How could a sane person even fathom doing what Harper did to his friends?

He was staring intensely at the paused recoding of the empty corridor outside of medical when the command doors suddenly hissed open. The burst of sound broke Dylan out of his rage induced trance. He spun to see who had interrupted his solitude.

Tyr. Great.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be protecting your favorite mudfoot?" he said snidely to the larger man. His mind still boggled over why they all were protecting Harper. At least Beka was on the right track, avoid the psychopath.

Tyr replied with a cold glance, then turned and walked over to one of the command consoles. "I came to see if there have been any intercepted messages from the Pythos. Not that's it's any of your concern."

Tyr began to bring up the data he required but a nagging voice in the back of his head wouldn't leave Dylan' comment alone. It was rather unsettling, very un-Tyr like. The great Kodiak shook that thought from his head, but the need to reply to the High Guard's comment still itched at his mind. He spun around to face the sulking captain. "And he is not my favorite mudfoot, but he did risk his life for ours and has proven himself to be a valuable asset." He spun back around to concentrate on the console.

"He's a monster, that's what he is. I've heard what he did you to, what he did to all of us. Here maybe you've blocked it out. Let me remind you." Dylan punched in a few commands and soon Tyr's begging and screaming filled command. "Gee, you sound like a weak little girl." Dylan was trying so hard to get the others to understand what Harper really was and if goading them was the only way, then so be it.

Spinning around one more time, Tyr faced the human, but this time with anger in his eyes. "No one calls the great Tyr Anasazi out of Victoria by Barbarous a 'little girl'!! How dear you, you pathetic, lowly, kludge! I am Kodiak!! KODIAK!! No one, and I mean no one, talks to me like that!" Tyr yelled as he approached the equaling angering Dylan.

The top of Dylan's thermometer flew off as mercury streamed out of his head. "You treacherous bastard!! You will pay for that! I'll greatly enjoy ripping every limb from your body!" Dylan roared as he rushed towards Tyr. Tyr sped up the encounter by racing towards the other man. Soon fists were flying, lips were bleeding, noses were broken and ribs were kicked.

Fifteen minutes later, Dylan laid unconscious on the floor of command while Tyr was crouching next to him, gasping for air.

Through his hazy mind, his own voice echoed. "No one calls the great Tyr Anasazi out of Victoria by Barbarous a 'little girl'!! How dear you, you pathetic, lowly, kludge! I am Kodiak!! KODIAK!! No one, and I mean no one talks to me like that!" His right eyebrow arched skyward as the words filtered through to his brain. Who the hell had said that? Did he say that? How could he say something so...so...whinny, so bratty......

Tyr's eyes grew wider as a light bulb sparked in his mind.

Silently he stood up and rushed out of command. Behind him he left the unconscious Dylan bleeding onto the nice newly cleaned deck plates. Rommie was not going to be happy.

*************

Under the bright lights of medical, Rommie still hovered over her sleeping engineer. He hadn't so much as moved an eyelash over the past eleven days. She would have mistaken him for dead if her highly tuned hearing wasn't picking up his heart beating or his lungs drawing in air.

Taking a damp towel, she whipped off his brow, hoping that the sensation might cause some movement in the catatonic man. It didn't.

"Oh Harper, if only you could see how much you mean to us. How much you hold this crew together." Rommie was unaware of the full truth behind her statement which she would learn later when she was once more cleaning the blood off of the command's floor.

She brushed a stray strand of Harper's unruly spikes off of his face. "Please, Seamus, we need you....I need you..." She paused. "I...I love you Seamus," she whispered as her pile of emotions from the past few days finally collapsed. Her upper body fell with the overwhelming emotions and her sobbing dropped onto Harper's chest. Slowly, a small puddle of tears grew on Harper's white medical garb.

Then it happened. 

Rommie stopped in mid-sob as she felt it. A very slight movement originating from the body below her.

Quickly she pushed herself back up and wiped away the all too human tears. Once her vision was clear, she stared down an the innocent looking face. 

His eyelids were fluttering.

Circuits began to buzz all through her, her mouth hanged open as a gasp escaped her body. In a nanosecond she back down near his face, caressing it with her hand. "Can you hear me Seamus? Come on wake up."

Unlike the others, he didn't have the steep wall to climb out of, he only had a few black curtains to push aside. Through the window dressings he could hear Rommie's muffled voice calling his name, pleading, begging, choking on unshed tears. He couldn't stand to hear his creation in so much pain. So, regrettably, he pushed the curtains aside and was blinded by the light.

"HARPER!" Rommie shouted with joy as the human's eyelids finally opened fully to reveal the confused blurry blue eyes.

Confused eyes turned to shocked eyes as realization fell upon him. Then, the shocked eyes turned away, hiding his pain from the women above him. He turned his anguish filled face away from the light. He was searching once more for the dark.

He had remembered everything.

"Harper?" Rommie asked in concern. "Come on, talk to me." No answer, no movement. "Everyone's awake and healthy. You did it, you saved them all. You saved all of us." She reached out to his face, trying to simply make contact with him and pull him back, but he recoiled from her hand as if it was coated in deadly acid.

Quickly and silently he began to move. He violently ripped out all of the IV tubs from his arms and neck, pushed himself up and swung his weak legs off the bed. He even tore his left arm from the sling that hung from his neck. Through his numbing emotions, he didn't even register the waves of pain that came from every movement from the newly repaired arm.

"What do you think your doing!?" Rommie yelled as she tried to grab him and force him back down. He simply swatted away her gentle prodding arms like they were annoying flies.

With trembling arms, he pushed his minuscule skeleton-thin body off the bed and his feet hit the floor below. This was a mistake. As soon as he let go of the bed, his body rejected the idea of free standing and crashed forwards into a nearby cabinet.

Through the sounds of crashing instruments and flesh, Rommie raced to his side. She picked him up and steadied him, distributing his pathetic weight between his feet, the counter and herself. "Harper! Talk! What in the empress's name do you think you're doing?" She yelled and pleaded with the still eerily silent motor mouth.

Again, his only response was movement. He ripped his arm away from Rommie's balancing grasp and steadied his weak body along the counter. He pulled himself farther down the rows of cabinets, constantly moving away from Rommie. Then he stopped, opened a drawer and began to rummage through the cluttered, instrument filled space.

Rommie raced once more up to the wavering, paling man. "Harper!" She yelled in his ear hoping to at least annoy him. The unresponsiveness was really beginning to worry her. 

Suddenly, the sound of clinking metal stopped as he ceased his searching. He had found his treasure and was holding it up in front of his glazed over, smiling eyes.

It was a nice sharp shinny scalpel.

"NO!" Rommie yelled as she realized what this was all about. She tried to grab the knife but the desperate Harper kept blocking her efforts. 

He tried to navigate the knife to his wrist, but she blocked it. Then to his neck, but again the android blocked his attempts. It was a stalemate, the power of desperation verses the power of engineering.

Harper cursed himself for building her with such fast reflexes.

The weakened Harper soon tired and slowed down enough for Rommie to grab his arms as she threw him to the ground. She straddled his thrashing chest and held his arms above his head, making sure to be gentle to his still healing arm. Her circuits yearned to hear his nasally voice comment on the position they were in, but only grunts of struggle escaped his tightly pursed lips.

"SEAMUS ZEALANZY HARPER! NO!!" She yelled at him as if he was dog. "You will not kill yourself. I will not allow it! Especially after all the hard work I put into keeping you alive in the first place!!"

Harper continued to struggle under her body for a few minutes as Rommie remained on top of him, bearing her angry stare deep within him. Finally he gave up, stopped wiggling and used his weak and raspy voice. "Who asked you?"

"What?" Rommie's eyebrows went up in confusion.

"Who asked you to save me!? I wanted to die. I was counting on dieing. The only way I was able to do..." his face paled even more, "what I did," more color drained, "was 'cause I knew I wasn't gonna have to live with myself. So please, let me go. You'll be happier if you just let me go." He finished with his face turned way from Rommie's worried and heart broken eyes.

She released his wrists, grabbed and threw the scalpel back up on the counter, and like before, took his face in her hands and forced it towards hers. "Seamus, I can't imagine how much you hurt, but we will get you through this. You saved us, now let us save you. Please don't give up after you've survived through so much." Her mind flashed back to his hidden scars, to his secret, to their secret. If he could survive that, than he was strong enough to survive this. And this time he had his friends, his family to help him through. 'He will make it,' she reassured her doubting self.

"Say something Harper, say you'll try, say you'll give life a chance, say you'd like me to stay on top of you forever. Say anything. Please." Pain, fear and sorrow filled her pleading voice.

Below her, Harper laid motionless. His face blank as he stared up at the ceiling above her. Not a single sound came from his mouth.

*******

The door flew open to Beka quarters as Tyr marched in. "We have to talk," he spoke urgently.

But only silence came from the two women in the room. Eyes locked in combat, hands rolled into fists, both ready to pounce on the other. Five minutes had passed since Beka first hit Trance. Neither had moved an inch.

Tyr stood near the doorway, watching the battle between wills as curiosity filled his face. Then, the raised eyebrow of confusion fell as a wave of enlightenment rushed through his mind. He strolled over to the girls and took the dangerous position of standing inbetween them. "Excuse me ladies, but we have an important issue to discuss."

The eyes remained locked as the snarl grew harsher on Beka's face.

Tyr continued on, ignoring being ignored. "If you haven't notice, we have all been acting rather unusual since we've woken. I have a theory as to why. But first, I must ask a few probing questions." He turned his head to face Beka. " Have you been feeling extra domineering, extra violent?"

The snarl was replaced by pondering lips. She was trying to think back, to analyze the thousands of chaotic feelings of the past few days. After a long pause, she answered, "Yes, actually."

Tyr nodded in approval and turned to face Trance. "What about you? More violent thoughts...feelings?"

This time it was Trance's turn for her snarl to turn into a pondering grimace. Same pause, and then the answer, "Yes." 

Their battle gazes were dieing off as Tyr's questions were distracting their thoughts.

Tyr, once more, nodded in approval. "I just came from a lovely boxing match with our idiot of a captain. I even...um," Tyr was blushing in shame under his rich dark skin, "I yelled at him...like a child in a brawl. Since when do I do that?" He looked towards the girls. The angry gazes were gone, replaced by confusion as to where Tyr was going with his logic. He continued. "But, who do we know that would yell like a child in a school yard fight? Who would be insulted over the tiniest thing?"

Tyr tossed up the ball and the girls hit it out of the park. "Stolic," they gasped out in unison.

A long pause of silence followed as the ball flew out of the field.

"Oh my..." Beka sputtered out.

"Do you really think...." Trance questioned almost more to herself.

Tyr was kind enough to finish her thought. "...That a small part of our invader's personality somehow imprinted themselves into our minds....Yes, yes I do."

Another long pause filled the room as the consequences of this new information filtered through their overworking brains. 

Suddenly, the group's epiphany was rudely interrupted by the ship hologram flickering into view. She said nothing, but just stared in saddened silence at the group before her. She had heard what they were discussing and was fascinated and horrified by it, but there was another urgent message they needed to hear.

"What is it Rommie?" Beka asked as she leaned up against the wall. The battle with Trance and the new shocking knowledge had exhausted her still weakened body.

The light-made-woman spoke in an even tone. "I have good news and bad news."

"Did you overhear us?" Trance questioned thinking it was about their disturbing theory.

"Yes I did and we will get to that next, but you need to know this. The good news is that Harper finally woke up." Mixed expressions filled the crew's faces. A small proud smile tugged at Tyr's lips, a mix of happiness and regret filled Trance's face, and dropped head of complete despair came from Beka.

Tyr realized the others were in no state to ask, so he stepped up and asked, "And the bad news?"

The hologram's face looked down as she answered. "The bad news is....well, he's not exactly the same Harper we had three weeks ago."

********

Back in medical, Rommie stood with her back turned on the one occupied bed, preparing the last dose of Harper's withdrawal medicine. As she drew up the liquid into the hypo-spray, she just stared aimlessly at the draining bottle that held the drug. She was completely numb, all of her emotional circuits were burned out.

Behind her, in the bed, laid the source of her numbness. Awake and silent laid Harper, strapped arms and legs to the bed, the same way he had strapped down his victims. His blank face stared up at the ceiling as he wished and prayed that somehow sweet death would still find its way to save him.

TBC.......


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: Thank you thank you thank you, for all the reviews. Reviews make me happy. :) And updates make you guys happy right? Well be happy. This part does return to the gore and freakiness for a bit, so be warned. Enjoy the pain, you sick people ;)

Chapter 24

Hissing, Dylan once more dapped the cut on his lip with the handkerchief trying to avoid taking in all the information his crew had just given him: They all most likely still had an impression of their alien invaders interfering with their reactions and personalities and Harper was quite, quite suicidal. The captain mulled over the new situation in his head as he stared down at the bloodied handkerchief. Damn Tyr could hit hard.

He looked up at command and around at his crew. Beka stood in the darkest corner, head down, staring intently at the ground while she absent mindedly rubbed her upper arm. She hadn't said a word since the impromptu crew meeting was called. Trance was currently standing near Beka's dark corner, nervously eyeing Dylan and Beka. She was awaiting his response and was constantly worried about the new withdrawn Beka. Leaning propped up against the console farthest from Dylan was Tyr. Slight glimpses of anger would periodically flash into his eyes as he watched Dylan. In the middle of command, standing nearest to the captain was Rommie, her super fast visual processes were taking in and analyzing every movement, every snare, every nervous glance that her crumbling crew gave to each other. Her worry circuits were on overdrive. The missing crew member was currently in medical sleeping and securely restrained with the ever watchful A.I. keeping guard.

Dylan looked at his anxious and traumatized crew and wished things could just go back to normal. The first step to get things back on track was for him to be their captain and friend again. He stepped up to his role once more, breaking the silence and commanding attention. "Rommie, any idea if the "impressions", as we're calling them, are permanent? You said there was no sign of brain damage in any of us, right?"

"You know I hate to say this but... I just don't know. Medically everyone is fine, but subconsciously, there is still a piece of them," she paused and gestured towards Dylan's head, "in there. Only time will tell." 

Dylan dropped his head and started massaging the bridge of his nose. "Great, just great." He paused as he processed more thoughts and ideas. "I guess all we can do is wait. We need to keep an eye on each other though. Watch out for any resurrection of the alien traits and point it out to the person. Maybe we can all learn to suppress them if it turns out our wonderful second personalities won't go away." He looked around at his still sullen crew. "We need each other more then ever right now, okay? Everyone with me?" He glanced around the room waiting for an answer, any answer. "Well?" Up when his eyebrows.

"Yah," "Mm," "Sure," "Yes," were the various answers of agreement.

"Could you sound a bit more, um, excited, confident, reassuring even?" Dylan begged his unenthused crew.

Trance spoke up once she saw Beka was still examining the ground and a flash of anger crossed Tyr's eyes and pursed lips. "Keep together, watch each other's back, yes Dylan, we got it," she tried to sound more energetic than she really was, but she was worried sick about Beka and Harper....and herself. Even though Harper had only been awake for a few hours, she still couldn't bring herself to even think about visiting him. She kept feeling his arm crumbling under the pressure of her hand and kept hearing him crying out for help. And if it wasn't her guilt over what she did to him that was haunting her, it was the flashes of what he had done to her. She couldn't close her eyes without seeing him standing over her with that bloody scalpel. She wanted desperately to be able to see him, to help him, but she didn't think she was strong enough to face him right away. Glancing over at Beka, she knew she wasn't the only one who felt this way.

Dylan once more played his captain role, breaking Trance's self wallowing. "Well thank you Trance, I appreciate the effort." Trance nodded and once more went back to the role of listing. They still had the other issue to discuss, the issue that was causing them all such grief. 

Harper. 

Dylan began again, "Well one game plan out of the way, now for the next problem." He paused. "What to do about the Calastors and Pythos. We can't just let them continue taking over ships and hurting innocents. I've been thinking and suggest we set up some warning beacons around the Calastors' nebula and inform all twenty-eight of the signed Commonwealth world about their alliance. The Pytho's fleet is too big for us to handle right now, but we can at least keep an eye on them." He paused as he stared longingly out into the infinite stretch of space that the view screen held. He spoke in little more than a whisper, "I don't want any other crews going through what we went through." Another pause as he broke off his gaze and his authoritative voice returned to him. "Andromeda, set a course for the closest slipstream point. Lets head back towards that nebula." 

The all powerful voice from the heavens responded to Dylan's command. "Aye, sir, course set." 

With gentleness and concern filling his face, he turned towards the dark corner, towards his silent first officer and pilot. He spoke with kindness, "Beka, do you think you are up to piloting through slipstream once we get there?"

She broke her gaze off the floor but still didn't quite look him in the eyes. "Don't know," she mumbled.

Dylan's heart broke. Damn those Calastors! He went to her side and gently rub her shoulder. "You can do this Beka. I believe in you." He knew piloting would be good for her, she loved it and she needed to do something she loved right now.

She glanced up at him and gave a weak nod.

"Good," he said smiling a reassuring smile. "Andromeda inform us when we reach the slip point."

"Ay sir," came from everywhere.

"Good then, everything's settled. Meeting adjured," he proudly spoke, oblivious to Rommie's death gaze aimed squarely at him. Tyr wasn't looking to happy either.

Rommie cleared her throat as he took his first step towards the door. "Dylan, don't you think you've forgotten something?" She asked hoping he had simply forgotten with all the concern over the imprinting.

He gave her a good long stare. "No Rommie, I haven't forgotten a thing." He turned again to head towards the door.

Now fuming with anger, Rommie spoke again, harsher this time. "Harper, what do you want to do about Harper? You know, your friend who is laying restrained in medical, fiercely wishing a scalpel would magically slit his wrist. We need to help him." 

The now cold captain turned and faced his avatar once more. "No, we don't. We don't need to help him. Let him kill himself, he'll save me from doing it." 

The responses from the others varied from furious from Rommie and Try, to silently withdrawn and confused from Trance and to completely devastated from Beka. Anytime anyone mentioned Harper, she would pale visibly and look as though someone had just crushed her heart anew. 

Rommie's processors went into overdrive to try to figure the sudden change. Did Dylan really feel this way, could it be Fex's personality popping up? Only one way to find out. She stepped closer to the fuming captain. "Um, Dylan, do you think Fex's impression might be interfering with your judgment here? You really don't want Harper to die...right?"

Taking in a deep breath, Dylan responded with passion and authority. "This is me, Dylan Hunt speaking, not Fex. And before you ask, I can tell the difference. I felt sudden rage when I hit Tyr, rage that is not me, rage that I only felt when Fex was in me. But with Harper, that is my rage, my hurt at being betrayed." Rommie tried to speak, but he cut her off. "No Rommie, you need to here this. You all need to hear this. We do need to address the issue of Harper. He betrayed us, he lied to us, and he even tortured us. True, only because of him, we are all standing here today, but think of how he saved us. He turned people into living, melting piles of goo....and he smiled over it! That sick evil smile! He burnt thousands of people to crisps! And Rommie, I saw the ship's recordings, I saw what he did to Galaver, so don't tell me he's not a psychopath. Hell, he happily enjoyed killing three thousand Pythos!! THREE THOUSANDS!!! He never was weak, he never needed our protection. He's lied to us!"

He paused to gage the other's reactions. Beka was close to tears, a good sign. Trance's head had dropped and she looked as though Dylan's ideas were beginning to sink in. But Rommie and Tyr both looked like they were about to boil over. Dylan watched the large Nietzschean constantly tighten and release his fist. Damn, he need them to understand. 

He continued with his argument. "Come on guys, he even tortured us! I heard the tapes, I heard all of us crying out in pain, screaming for help. And what he did to Beka was unimaginable, I mean where does a sane person even come up with that stuff!? He could have found another way, he should have found another way! He's a monster and I want nothing to do with him...as should all of you. We are all better without him. If he wants to die, I say we let him," he ended softly. 

He hated being the bad guy and didn't want to be the one who had to do this. He didn't like breaking their hearts but someone had to protect them from that imposter. He looked at the glaring faces of Rommie and Tyr. They still didn't understand. Dylan looked down in defeat. He would just have to keep pounding the truth into their stubborn heads until they understood. They needed to let Harper go, it was for the best.

"It think that's enough for today," he said softly as he turned and left command. The even more down trodden Beka and Trance slowly trudged out after him. The two lone souls left in command still flexed their powerful fists trying to hold in their ragging urge to punch some sense into Dylan.

The silence on command was thick enough that you could make pea soup out of it. Finally the fog broke as Tyr headed towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Rommie asked, her anger fading. She was concerned Tyr might be going after Dylan to do what her programming would not allow her to do.

He pause, turned to face her and spoke gentler than she had ever heard him. "I'm going to help Harper. The other's might be blinded by their emotions, but I can see just fine. That child lying in that med bed is the exact same Harper that has always been here. We just got to see his survival side, for such he should not be condemned to death by captain idiot." Tyr turned to leave before giving Rommie a little piece of advice. "I suggest you try to talk some sense into our misguided crewmates before I run into them again. If not, a certain male someone might just end up with another split lip." With that said, he strolled out of command and headed towards medical.

*********

Trance's warm breath flew over his inflamed data port sending a shiver of pain down his spine. The solid fist of Tyr's punch slammed into his jaw, creating a new river of blood flowing across his tongue. Dylan's sick laugh filled the darkened room and turned Harper's stomach upside down.

Why...why were they hurting him. He didn't understand. Through the swollen lips and broken jaw, he begged for them to stop, but they only responded with more twisted laughter and another swift kick to his already broken ribs. What had he done? He fought so hard not to let the tears escape from his swollen eyes, but one managed to brake through.

Dylan immediately saw the weakness in the tear. He brought his face right up to Harper's. "What's the matter little mudfoot, are we hurting you? Do you want us to stop?" His voice was harsh and patronizing.

Harper fought himself from begging as he bit his lip in a desperate attempt to hide the heart that was shattering in his chest.

"Can't answer huh? Poor, pathetic runt. Well, we can't stop, we're not done having our fun yet...you're still alive." The sickest and most twisted grin Harper had ever seen slowly grew on Dylan's face. That smile would have send shiver's down Satan's spine.

Dylan pulled back and soon Harper was engulfed in a storm of kicks, punches, spits, and impacts from unknown blunt objects, all the while he could clearly make out each of his friends laughter and voices. Finally sweet nothingness overtook him and the voices faded........

....Blackness engulfed him, but slowly grays were infiltrating the void. He could feel his heavy eyelids fluttering, trying to blink away the darkness. More and more light flooded in until he could make out the all too familiar haunting ceiling.

It was that blasted ceiling from the Pytho's Recreation Center. That ceiling that had that stupid broken flickering light, those annoying fifty-two cracks, and that freak'n leak that would always drip right next to his head, creating a deafening sound pinging against the concrete slap he was strapped to. Oh, how he hated that drip. 

Harper once again stared up, despair filling his heart by the second. He was back in his anguishing sixteen year old body. Pain was now so common that it seemed normal, but he could feel several very familiar, unique sensations...sensations that only those torturous spikes could cause. He struggled to looked down at his ravaged body only to catch glimmers of the rusted over metal objects protruding from various parts of his body. He groaned and slammed his head back to the cement bed. A cold evil laugh came out of the surrounding darkness. A cold evil familiar laugh.

Squinting his eyes, he stared into the darkness only to catch a glimpse of a glimmering sliver of a sick smile and the glint of another spike ready to be driven into his body. Harper's only reactions was a blood curdling scream. He didn't want to be here again, he couldn't be here again. He screamed and screamed until his throat was bleeding and his voice was gone. Then he could only continue to release his pain and fear through his bulging eyes.

A familiar voice boomed out of the darkness. "Scared Seamus? Why? You know you're only getting what you deserve, you sick monster." The voice was moving closer until the owner of it broke out of the darkness and into the light.

The cold ice blue eyes stared down at Harper, the lopsided grin grew larger, and the spiky blonde hair resembled the insanity of it's owner.

A gasp rushed out of the restrained Harper as he stared up at himself.

The grin grew larger. "What? You know you deserve this you freak. After what you did to all the people that trusted you; your parents, your cousins including Brendan, Hohne, and of course your new family. Who could forget how you repaid their kindness. You psychopath." He rose up his hand with the sharp rod in it and began to place in on his clone's knee. "Freak."

"NOOOOO!!!." Harper yelled when suddenly instead of feeling the pain of the invading object, he felt the weight of the hammer in one hand the cool metal of the spike in the other. He looked back down at the table, at the poor soul who was the new recipient of the spike, only to see not himself lying there, but Beka. A bruised, cut, impaled, bleeding, begging Beka.

Harper jumped back as the hammer fell from his trembling hand. "No...wh-what'd I do?" he sobbed.

"You betrayed me Harper!! You hurt me!! You left me on that table to die! You weak mudfoot! I saved you and this is how you repay me!" Beka yelled as she nodded towards her ravaged body. Blood was slowing running out of her mouth. "You killed me Seamus."

"No...you're ok...Rommie said so," he sputtered out in-between sobs.

Beka turned her head away.

"Beka?" 

"You killed me Seamus, you killed me by your betrayal," Beka spoke eerily evenly as she turned her face back towards the trembling, sobbing Harper. But her face was no longer flesh and blood, but flesh hanging off bones with blood and various other fluids oozing off the strips of tissue. "You killed me on the inside Seamus." Blood poured out of her mouth as she spoke.

"NOOOO!!!" Harper yelled with every ounce of his soul. He wanted to run, to flee, but his legs wouldn't obey him. They just quivered beneath him as the hideous face grew and rose up, engulfing him. All he could see and feel was Beka's pain, her hurt, his betrayal.

"You hurt us all Seamus. We trusted you, we loved you, and you hurt us. You're despicable. You should be dead." Beka's voice filled his entire existence.

"NOOOO!!!" he yelled as his real body flew up against the restraints in medical. His eyes jumped open as his heart pounded trying to escape his chest. "No, no, no, no.." he kept muttering in between gasps of air.

He threw his head back down to the pillow below him as he began to fight the restraints that held his ankles and wrists. Grunts escaped his pursed lips and his wrists began to bleed from the chafing of the manacles.

He couldn't go on like this, not with these new demons. He already had a head full of demons and there were no more vacancies. He struggled to maneuver his wrists in such a way that the restraints would cut the underside of his limb, hoping against all hope that they would dig in deep enough to sever his veins. But he was never that lucky.

"No...let me go.." he cried and begged to no one as he pounded his head against the soft pillow. Where was the concrete bed when he needed it? "Can't take it...let me go..." More sobs wracked his miserable body as fatigue began to overtake him.

Unbeknownst to him, a silent figure in the shadows had been watching the whole time. Tyr looked down in pain for the child. This was not going to be easy. 

Slowly, as to not scare the boy, Tyr stepped out of the shadows. "Harper," he said quietly.

Harper twisted his head to see the large Nietzschean. His eyes widened and then dropped as he turned his tear covered face away. "Unless you're here to kill me or release me so I can do it myself, go away," he mumbled.

"Since when do I take orders from you child?" Tyr asked as he neared the bed. He pulled up a chair along with some bandages. Sitting down next to Harper, he began to treat the bleeding wrists. In silence, he cleansed the cuts, hoping the normally talkative little man would say something. 

But medical remained shrouded in silence.

Taking deep breath, Tyr broke the vacuum of sound. "Harper, you know we are not going to kill you or let you commit suicide," he paused waiting for any sign of response from the turned away head, but there were none. "I've watched you over the years boy. I can tell you've been through more than you let on or have told us, and I know, like me, you are a survivor. You will overcome these demons like you've done before. I will see to it." Tyr paused this time, unwilling to say another word until he got a response.

Minutes passed in a fog of silence.

"I...I...can't," Harper whispered.

"Why?" Tyr's voice was more gentle than anyone could imagine.

More minutes of fog filled silence.

Harper still hid his face from Tyr, but the Nietzschean sensitive hearing could pick up every pain filled syllable. "I just can't. I can't live with hurting one more person that I...I care for....too many...hurt everyone..." Tyr could even hear the tears falling onto the sheets on the bed.

Gently placing his large hand over the trembling smaller hand, Tyr spoke reassuringly, "Boy, you only hurt us to save us. That is noble, not shameful. You should not feel bad for what you did."

"Could'a found another way...should'a found another way...didn't have ta hurt...can't hurt anymore...too many, too many."

"Are the Pytho's included in that 'too many'?" Tyr asked hoping to get some idea where the boy's guilt ended.

Harper's head spun around to face Tyr's. Anger burned in his eyes. "No!! Screw the Pytho's! They got everything they deserved!"

Tyr forced himself not to jump back at the boy's roller coaster change of emotions. From a sobbing despair to a yelling rage in seconds flat. What really had happened in Harper's past? The little professor was quickly working his way up near Trance on Tyr's mysterious people list. 

"Why do you hate them so?" Tyr was just happy Harper was talking and wanted to keep him speaking.

"Because of what they did to m...." 

"What did they do to you?"

Once more the head turned away and silence returned. Tyr had hit a brick wall and quickly went into reverse.

"Ok, so no Pythos" Tyr pauses, pondering where to go next. He thought about the little the boy had said and found his road sign. He took the exit. "Harper, you said you hurt others that you cared for. Who?"

More silence, Harper had stopped playing Tyr's game.

Getting up and pushing his chair back, Tyr spoke up, "Fine, if you want to stay here, strapped down until you die of old age, that's fine with me." He pushed the chair farther away. "But...if you'd just talk to me, I'd be willing to un-strap you."

And yet more silence.

"Fine." Tyr began to walk out of medical. As he was nearing the door, he could just barely make out Harper's whispered answer.

"Everyone...I hurt everyone. My mom, my dad, my cousins...Brendan, Hohne, and now...you guys..." Pain and angst seeped into each name on the list.

Tyr stood near the door, his back still facing Harper. He had to admit he was slightly shocked at the length of the list. 

"I'm a monster Tyr. Everyone that trusts me gets hurt. Please just kill me and save anyone one else from the pain of knowing me."

Turning around, Try returned to Harper's side. He reached down and began to undo the boy's straps. Harper turned his head and looked up in surprise.

"I promised, didn't I?" Tyr hoped he was doing the right thing. 

When the final restraint was undone, Tyr helped Harper into a sitting position and returned to his chair in front of the boy. He commanded the engineer's total attention. "Harper, you are not a monster, you are a survivor. And survivors always see those around them suffer, it's the nature of the beast. Sometimes it is our fault, sometimes it is not. Either way we must live, we must go on. You owe it to all those on your list to try to live and you owe it to us to stay around and help us live. Do you understand?" Tyr's normally stoic eyes were now soft and understanding. He understood Harper's pain more than anyone would ever know...but Harper could see it, he could see the bond of the painful past that they shared. It was in Tyr's understanding eyes, in his words. They were brothers.

Tyr watched as a battle raged in those sad blue eyes. To live, to die, to face the nightmares or to run into the darkness.

"I understand Tyr, but...but I don't know if it's enough," Harper whispered.

"If it's not, then you have us. We will not let you go, no matter how much you whine and beg of us," Tyr whispered back.

A small tear rolled down Harper's cheek. He brought up his arm and roughly wiped it away.

"So, child, do you promise me you will not try to kill or hurt yourself?"

A pause.

"I guess," Harper whisper with little confident.

Tyr responded to the unsure tone with a long hard evil stare.

Gulping, Harper tried his hand at the answer one more time, "I will try not to kill or hurt myself Master Tyr Anasazi," he said louder and more confident. 

A small grin broke through the angry snarl. "That's my boy!" He cupped the back of Harper's neck and playful pushed it to the side. Harper lightheartedly swatted the hand away. "Now, lets see if we can get you cleared out of medical. I believe there are some warning beacons of you to create." Harper forced a lopsided smile on his face. Tyr returned the smile and began to contact Trance over the comms.

While Tyr was talking, Harper stayed seated on the bed as his eyes absentmindedly roamed the room. Suddenly his eyes stopped and glazed over with yearning and hope. He gazed longing at the object of his desire.

There it laid, right where Rommie had thrown it earlier. It shone under the lights of medical, it's sharp edge begging for Harper's skin. The scalpel called his name.

"No," he muttered under his breath as his eyes shunned away from the forbidden fruit. Once more, his empty blue eyes aimlessly and hopelessly roamed the room.

TBC.....


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: Okay, life has finally calmed down enough for me to get this part out. Stupid chaotic life. 

Thank you guys so much for the reviews and even the nagging. I love it all and my ego is nice a full. :^)

So here's chapter 25...It's angst loaded, long and hopefully good. Again, sorry for the wait. Hope it was worth it.

Enjoy!

Chapter 25  
  
Trance and Rommie had insisted on keeping their engineer in medical for one more day of observations, but in reality it was really only Rommie who watched over the traumatized Harper. The golden warrior still could not bring herself to face the person she helped beat to a bloody pulp and the person who tortured her. The closest she got was standing outside the closed doors of medical and trying to will them to open with her mind. But her nerves failed her at the last moment and she went running down the corridor to the soft sounds of sobs.  
  
Andromeda and her ship made flesh just watched as their crew crumbled apart even more: Beka barely left her quarters and only did so to pilot. Dylan was either trying to persuade the others to see Harper for who he really was or trying to get to the boy in order to do god knows what to him. Trance kept herself busy trying to comfort Beka or by falling apart herself. This left only Tyr and Rommie to help the ever worsening Harper. True, he had kept his promise to Tyr, but the human had found other ways to punish himself for the horrors he believed himself to have committed.  
  
Currently, only three days after being released, Harper was finishing up his fifth case of Neubayern Weisbrau.  
  
"Crap," he slurred as he sucked the bottle dry and then threw the now useless object across Machine Shop 17. It hit the wall with a crash and send shards of glass raining down onto the already glass covered floor. There, the newest victim now laid in silence along with all of it's other deceased brothers.  
  
Harper pushed his aching body up and stumbled as his world suddenly turned into a blurry, spinning mess. He'd barely eaten or sleep since returning to his quarters. Tyr would come in almost hourly to check on him and Rommie still kept constant surveillance on her suicide prone engineer. They did all they could, but neither could force him to eat nor order him to face the hellish nightmares that came with sleep.  
  
He slowly staggered his way across the chaos filled room, somehow remarkably not tripping over the three uncompleted warning beacons that littered the floor. He couldn't even bring himself to finish the simple task of creating the beacons. Normally it would have taken him minutes, but now, the sweet craving for escape via alcohol was always taking precedent.  
  
As he fell into his workbench, he once again regretted making that stupid promise to Tyr. His hand had just happened to land right next to his nano-welder, his nano-welder that could so easily end his misery. For minutes he eyed the tool as his mind raced with ways to make his death look like an accident.  
  
While his mind was battling it's self for what seemed like the thousandth time today, a buzz filled the room. Someone was at his door. He figured it had to be Rommie or Tyr seeing that no body else had come to visit him since being released. They were all smarter than the Nietzschean and the android. Well, not true, one day Harper had hear Trance crying outside his door and then heard her retreating footsteps. The drunk mudfoot responded by grabbing yet another beer and downing it in minutes flat. Harper had hear Dylan outside his quarters many a times, but it was usually in a yelling match with Tyr. All the boy could make out was "monster", "off my ship", and "kill him". Harper really wished Tyr would just let Dylan have his way. But as always, Harper was never that lucky.   
  
Still staring at the nano-welder, the door chimed again. He knew it couldn't be Beka since he hadn't even heard from her since he cowardly left her on the table to die. Maybe she really was dead. Maybe they had been lying to him, realizing that he would not be able to handle the truth. His hand neared the welder as that thought grew in his mind.  
  
Once more the door yelled for Harper's attention. He really didn't want to face Tyr or Rommie right now. Rommie would always come in and try to comfort him, him the monster. But according to her, he was no monster, at least that's what she constantly told him. Harper decided he would have to try to fix her broken logic circuit at some point. How could he not be a monster?   
  
All he wanted was to be left alone to drown himself in his lovely collection of Neubayern Weisbrau, but now, almost every hour Tyr or Rommie would come buzzing at that door. If it wasn't Rommie's speech about how she needed Harper to stop drinking than it was Tyr's speech about where there's life there's hope, blah blah blah. Both would yell at him as he rebelliously downed yet another bottle during their lectures. He was just so sick of it. Why couldn't they just come out and say what they really meant. That they needed him to make the damn beacons or to fix the ship. Hell, why couldn't they just admit that they needed him around to make themselves feel superior. Oh look at that pathetic kludge, ain't you glad you're not him.  
  
But what was worse than the lies were those damn looks of pity Rommie gave him every time she saw him...those knowing looks of pity. Harper knew she knew about the scars, but he still wasn't' sure if she had sussed out how he got them yet. Knowing the processor he build into Rommie, she had.  
  
The door whined yet again for Harper to answer only to be followed by angry yelling and pounding from the person on the other side. "BOY! OPEN THIS DOOR THIS INSTANCE!"   
  
It was Tyr.   
  
Harper sighed as he gave up trying to will the nano-welder to slice his head off and stumbled over to open the door for his guest. The door opened, flooding light into the darkened room. A large silhouette of a man created a menacing shadow over Harper's tiny frame. "What d' ya wansh?" Harper slurred angrily as he stumbled before the towering Tyr.  
  
Tyr responded by pushing the rank smelling human out of the doorway as he marched into the mess of a room. Shattered bottles laid everywhere, piles of dirty clothes grew in every corner, and gadgets and uneaten meals lined every available surface area.  
  
"Lights, eighty percent," Tyr ordered the ship. The room brightened considerably to reveal more of the chaos that hid in the safe darkness of the shadows.   
  
Tyr turned to face the swaying drunk. "Mr. Harper, I thought I told you to clean up this mess and to cease with the drinking." He paused as he notice the full crate of beer that was half hidden under a pile of some unrecognizable objects. "Where did you get this?" Tyr kicked the crate, "I thought we confiscated all of your liquor."  
  
Harper just gave a twisted smug grin. "I have m' ways." He nearly fell as he tried to stand up straight in his most cocky manner.  
  
Tyr just looked at the boy in front of him and shook his head. Harper's haunted blood shot eyes rested glazed over in their sockets as heavy dark bags hung beneath them. To finish out the look of misery was the shallow, sunken in cheek bones of starvation. Harper was obviously trying to find a loophole out of his promise to Tyr.  
  
Tyr spoke as he was now accustomed to speaking to Harper, in a calm, collected yet caring tone. "Child, what will it take to get these demons out of you?"  
  
"A nice loaded gauss gun," Harper replied hauntingly sober.  
  
Tyr gave a good stern look. "Keep that talk up and I'll have you strapped back down in medical before you can even say Neubayern Weisbrau"  
  
"Phtt...Whashever," the boy slurred out as he stumbled back over to one of his littered corners. "Just gimm' th' stupid lecsher an' leave m' alone."  
  
Try sighed as he propped himself up against the cluttered workbench. "Harper," he paused unsure of the right thing to say to the depressed being. He refused to give up on the little mudfoot, he would not let these new demons get the best of this stubborn, irritating child. "Have you even tried to sleep?" he finally asked in an exasperated sigh as he massaged his forehead.  
  
The sulking man gazed down at the floor. "No, I'm quite sashisfied with my nish waking nightmares, tank ya very mush."  
  
"Would you like some sleeping pills I believe there are some that produce a dreamless sleep." Tyr was worried about the engineer's heath. He still hadn't fully recovered from the Buzz withdrawal and this constant lack of sleep was not helping. Tyr began to question the boy's release from medical...maybe he really did need to be strapped back down.  
Harper just stared as his fidgeting boots as he chewed on his lips, mulling over Tyr's offer in his foggy mind.  
  
"Shall I take your silence as an affirmative?" Tyr questioned.  
  
The depressed man kicked a nearby half broken bottle and watched as it clinked it's way across the room. Dreamless sleep sounded like a nice change. He figured it was as close to death as he could get with Rommie and Tyr watching him like a hawk. " 'Kay," he mumbled.  
  
"Good," Try nodded with approval. It was a start. "I believe they have to be taken with food," he lied, "I'll stop by the mess hall and grab you some on my way back with the pills, okay?"  
  
"Fine," Harper mumbled like a pouting child.  
  
Try began to walk out of the room when he felt Harper's smiling eyes on the back of his neck. He stopped his retreat, turned around and walked over towards the half hidden crate of booze. "I almost forgot these," he smirked as he picked up the crate and left behind a pouting boy.  
  
"Stupid Nietzschean," Harper hissed after Tyr was well out of hearing range. He started kicking any object that dared to lie near his feet. That case Tyr just walked out with was his last stockpile of booze. Harper figured he would have to try to somehow sneak out to go on a rescue mission for his beloved beer later. He would rather face a pissed off Tyr than face his new reality sober.  
  
Still taking out his frustrations on the poor innocent objects on the floor, Harper neared the half built beacons. He took a swift hard kick to one of the larger pieces and it went flying across the room, hit the far wall and shattered into a million pieces. The holographic personality of Andromeda shimmered into existence just in time to receive a second piece of the beacon through her abdomen. She shimmered as it hurled through her body.  
  
"That was uncalled for Harper," she responded like a mother reprimanding a misbehaving child. Her hands were even in the familiar hands on hip position.  
  
"Go away," he muttered.  
  
"No Harper, we are going to help you whether you want it or not. That was the deal, remember?"  
  
Harper just grunted as he plopped himself down on one of the chairs made of clothing in the corner. "You wanna help me? Get me m' beer."  
  
Andromeda-light replied with an angry glare. "How does letting you die of alcohol poisoning help you?....No, wait, don't answer that," she added at the end with a sigh. She knew what his answer would have been and really couldn't stand to hear him beg for death anymore. She was growing increasingly worried as the days passed and her little engineer showed no signs of improvement, in fact, he had gotten worse. More self destructive, more hostile, more bitter and even more stubborn. Each day, he was turning the light level in his room darker and darker, seemingly hoping that the encroaching darkness would swallow him up.  
  
"Harper, will you please talk to us, any of us. We are all worried. You need to let us help you. Please," she begged, knowing full well that it was hopeless. Even before this incident, Harper's mouth was always closed tight about anything that was really bothering him, now it was sealed shut.   
  
The hologram looked down at the sulking boy being engulfed by the pile of clothing and rags. His head was hanging down and his eyes were locked on a small puddle of beer that was glistening in the light. He was more likely to go over and start licking up the puddle than he was to open up to her.  
  
"Fine Harper," she sighed. "Go wallow some more." She took one last sad look at her once vibrant crew member before she fizzled from view. Trying to act as a psychologist was not really in her programming.  
  
Harper sighed as he began banging his head on the hard paneling behind him. 'Damn-it, why couldn't they just kill me. Why did they have to save me from the withdrawal death?' he pondered silently to the bounding beat of his head. He still couldn't understand why they wanted him around so badly. Were Tyr and Rommie really that dense? Couldn't they see the threat he was to their safety? The other did, but those two boneheads just didn't get it.  
  
The pounding got louder as he threw his aching head up against the paneling harder and harder. Louder and louder it got until his rhythm was interrupted by a loud bodiless female voice, "HARPER! STOP IT!"   
  
"Fine! Fine!" he yelled up at the ever watchful AI as he did as he was told. Returning to simply sulking, he yearned to feel some sort of pain, to be punished in someway for the heinous crimes he had committed to his friends. Unbeknownst to him, that punishment was currently sprinting towards his quarters, constantly racing through a very persistent hologram.  
  
"DYLAN! STOP!" Harper could hear muffled through his closed door.  
  
The next thing he heard were the keys on the keypad for his door being furiously pressed, then the door hissing open to a ragging Dylan who was charging right towards his dark little corner.  
  
"Get out!! Get off of my ship you murderer!!" Dylan screamed as he rushed Harper and grabbed the smaller man by the filthy shirt, lifting the light body of the boy well off the ground. Harper simply responded with a blank stare.  
  
"What the hell's the matter with you, you sick freak?!! Don't you see what you've done to Beka?! To Trance!? They are close to tears almost everyday because of the atrocities you committed to them!!" The angry man hurled Harper across the room. His still healing body slammed into the workbench with a sickening crash. The sound of hundreds of gadgets and tools accompanied the larger noise with a shower of smaller crashes as the objects blended seamlessly onto the cluttered floor.  
  
Once more the hologram tried to stop the enraged captain the only way her non-corporeal body could. "Dylan, please, stop it! You're hurting him! That's not your rage, it's Fex's. Please stop!!"  
  
Dylan did stop, but only to give a command. "Privacy mode, Captain override, Alpha Bravo Niner."  
  
"Privacy mode engaged," the ship responded professionally but with a hint of regret and sadness. The hologram disappeared from view and joined her sister in damning their programmers as they tried to alert Tyr and Rommie to the fight raging in Harper's quarters.  
  
Dylan charged at Harper's conscious but crumbled form on the floor and grabbed the unresponsive man by the throat. "FIGHT!! Say something!" Dylan yelled, disturbed by the complete lack of response by his victim.  
  
Harper just hung limply from Dylan's grasp on his neck, wishing the air would leave his lungs faster. He wanted to thank his captain for finally doing what the others were too weak to do.  
  
"Arg!" Dylan growled as Harper remained noncombatant. He dropped the smaller man to the ground, letting the color return to the boy's paling face before he began to furiously kick him. "Damn you! Why did you ever come on board, you murderer! You torturer!! We trusted you! We risked our lives for you...you trader!"   
  
Kick after kick was delivered to Harper's face and torso. Newly healed ribs cracked under the intense impacts of Dylan's boots. A hard kick to Harper's encased arm produced a loud gasp of agony.  
  
"Go on, scream out in pain, beg me to stop just like we begged you. But you didn't stop did you! You kept on hurting up, kept cutting us more! Do you know how much that hurt!? DO YOU!?" Dylan yelled in complete ignorance as Harper took each kick without more than a yelp. He was finally getting some of the punishment he felt he so desired.  
  
The yelling man kicked Harper's still healing encased arm over and over again. "Go on scream! Scream you monster!" As Dylan's leg readied for another kick, Tyr burst through the doors with anger burning across his face and fury in his eyes.  
  
"Step away from the boy, NOW!!" Tyr ordered through clenched teeth as the veins on his forehead budged out even farther. The Kodiak could feel Stolic's impression fueling on his rage, but at the moment Tyr really didn't care and welcomed any rage that came his way.  
  
Finishing his interrupted kick, Dylan turned to greet the growling, poor mislead protector of the monster. "I'm doing this for us, for the Common Wealth, hell, for the Universe. We don't need this...." he motioned towards the small, bloody, beaten, lump of flesh crumbled on the floor, "this monster in existence." He spat on Harper's unmoving form at his feet.  
  
"You ignorant, stupid, naive boy scout!" yelled Tyr. "You just can't get it through your thick skull that he saved us, that he is still our friend, that he did everything for US!" He slowly stepped closer to the equally fuming captain.  
  
"FOR US!? He massacred those Pythos for us? He smiled over their vial deaths for us? No, Tyr, I think that was for him! For his revenge. And you want to tell me that he tortured us for us. How logical is that, huh!? No Try Anasazi, I think you're the one who just can't get it through your thick skull. He is a psychopath, a murderer, a torturer, a liar and a traitor! You have to let him go. Can't you see what a monster he is!?" Dylan emphasized his point with a swift kick to Harper's bloody face. The lump of flesh on the ground recoiled and struggled to bring his one good arm up to shied his face. A whimper whispered out of his swollen mouth.  
  
That did it. Try lost it. He charged Dylan, throwing him to the ground. Both large muscle bound men exchanged punch after punch. The testosterone lever rose exponentially as the fight raged on. Rommie was racing her way through the corridors trying desperately to reach her battling crew before she permanently lost one. She finally made it as she burst into the war room.  
  
She first spotted Harper curled up next to the collapsed workbench. He was a mess; bloody, bruised and barely conscious. Only small groans could be heard from his crumbled body. Then Rommie spotted the main event, the two men brawling in the center of the room.  
  
"STOP IT!" She yelled as she raced over and yanked Tyr off of Dylan. She easily picked up his huge body and threw him across the room as if he was a rag doll.   
  
Dylan jumped up to race after his escaped fight partner but was interrupted by Rommie as she picked him up and threw him to the other side of the cluttered disaster area of a room.  
  
"I said STOP!!' she yelled as the entire ship seemed to quake from the power of her voice. "Can't you see what you're doing!? You both think you're saving the crew, doing what's best for all of us, but you're both just destroying us more!! Look at him!" She pointed to the whimpering boy curled up on the floor and then turned to face Dylan. "He is not a monster. He is a human, he is Seamus Harper, your friend, your collogue, your family. He is the same person who you've fussed and worried over so many times. And he did save you. He doesn't deserve this. Dylan...he deserves your help, your friendship," she ended quietly.  
  
But the captain still didn't get it and responded with a huff and by rolling his eyes. Tyr in turn responded with an angry growl.   
  
Rommie heard the Nietzschean's growl and spun to face him. "Oh no you don't. You're not helping either. Constantly wanting to punch Dylan's lights out, even if he is begging for it, is only pushing us all farther apart," she paused to look at to still snaring, growling men and sighed. "What is wrong with you men?"  
  
After a minute of silence and battle stares, Rommie gave in. "That's it! Both of you go to your quarters!" The two stood there surprised at her motherly order. "NOW!! GO! GET OUT! If I see either of you fighting, trying to start a fight, or even look at each other funny, I will active the auto-defense system on both of you. NOW GO!!"  
  
Both men jumped back from her outburst and sulked out of the disheveled room, trying to avoid each other's death stares.  
  
Once they were gone, Rommie went to Harper's side and gently turned him over onto his back. "Andromeda, get Trance!" She yelled to herself.  
  
"Already did, she's on her way," the voice from nowhere responded.  
  
Rommie began to smooth out her patience's unruly hair. "Harper, are you ok? Talk to me."  
  
Groaning he broke out of her caress, rolled over onto his stomach and struggled to push himself up on his hand and knees. He cradled his re-injured arm up to his injured ribs. "Go away," he ordered as he spit out some blood.  
  
"Seamus! Lie back down! You've got broken ribs, your arm is badly damaged again and you have a concussion."  
  
"I deserved it," he mumbled as he tried to stand up without much success. Luckily, Rommie caught him before he caused more injuries to his already battered body.  
  
"No you didn't. Now stop thinking that way and lay back down and wait for Trance. She'll be here in a minute."  
  
Harper let out a sad, sick laugh mixed with a bloody cough. "No she won't. She'll make it to the door, see me, the monster, and wisely turn and run away. She's a smart girl."  
  
"Harper! Goddess, will you stop talking like that! You are not a monster! Do I need to make a recording for you? Repeat after me...'I, Seamus Harper, am not a monster.'"   
  
Harper just stared up at her with annoyance.  
  
"Fine. But what will it take to convince you?" Rommie begged.  
  
Still Harper remained silent.  
  
Rommie sighed and buried her head in her hands. She didn't' know what to do. All she could do was watch as her crew fell apart in front of her. Her sprits lifted slightly as she heard Trance approaching. Trance always rose to the occasion, maybe she would overcome her fear of Harper now when he needed her the most.   
  
The avatar's hopes shattered as Trance stood quivering just outside the open door. Her eyes were locked onto Harper and were filled with fear, regret, sorrow, and shame. "No...can't...s-sorry," she whispered as she dropped the medical kit, turned and fled down the corridor. Her soft sobs could be hear as she retreated.  
  
"See, smart girl," Harper smirked in between painful coughs.  
  
"Damn it," Rommie hissed as she got up to fetch the dropped medical kit. She returned to Harper who was sitting on the floor and began trying to treat his wounds. She brought up a hypo spray to his neck only for it to be greeted by his swatting hand.   
  
"No, go away," he said as he tried one more time to stand up. This time he made it up onto his wobbling legs.  
  
"Harper, get back down here! You need medical attention!"  
  
"Fuck you, majority rules baby. Beka, Dylan and Trance want nothing to do with me, so sorry, you lose. I'm gone," he hissed as he stumbled his way out of the room.  
  
The now alone Rommie couldn't take it as tears began to pour down her face. Her hologramatic self appeared before the sobbing machine. "We have no choice. We have to do it," the light being said with hard kindness.  
  
Rommie looked up at her shimmering self with bloodshot watery eyes. "But...I need them together, they have to stay together...I promised," she choked out between sobs.  
  
"They are not 'together' now. It's the only thing that might work. It's the only chance we have to save them."  
  
Rommie sat silently as she mulled everything over in her head Her various selves had been discussion options to save the crew from themselves ever since they were all back online. They had tried everything and now had only one more drastic plan left. She knew they had to put it into motion before they permanently lost one of their crew members.  
  
"Okay," she agreed reluctantly. "Inform Tyr. I'll go get Harper, he couldn't have gotten to far in the state he was in." She pushed herself off of the ground with an artificial grunt and grabbed a special hypo spray from the kit.  
  
"It will work Rommie," the hologram said reassuringly to all of herselves.  
  
Rommie just nodded sadly and began to chase after Harper.  
  
"It has to work," the lonely hologram said sadly as she blinked out to inform Tyr of his roll in the plan to save the crew of Andromeda from self destruction.  
  
"It has to."  
  
TBC....  



	26. Chapter 26

A/N: Thanks for all the feedback....Homer Simpson voice mmmm feedback /Homer Simpson voice And a special thanks to Luna Malfoy for increasing my review count by a lot. 

Well as begged for here's the next part. I hope you all enjoy it! 

Chapter 26

Try took a brief break on his intense concentration on weaving the tiny slipfighter through the chaos of the Slipstream to look back at his unconscious passenger. Behind him sat slumped over was a quite, unaware drugged Harper. Andromeda had contacted Tyr in his quarters and revealed her plan to him. The large man had to admit the plan had it's flaws but agreed try anything to help the tortured little professor. The Nietzschean had then gone to meet up with Rommie and the newly drugged Harper in the hanger bay. There, the two carefully patched up the boy's wounds, the physical ones at least, the deeper more painful psychological wounds could not be fixed so easily. Tyr carefully placed the sleeping engineer in the back of the slipfighter and jumped in himself. Rommie wished him luck as the hatch closed air tight. Skillfully, he piloted the small vessel away from the warship and took himself and his hijacked passenger into the maze that was the Slipstream. He was headed for the secret destination Andromeda had informed him of.

Returning his concentration onto maneuvering through the electric strings, Tyr truly hoped he had not overestimated the child's inner strength and that the boy could indeed pull himself out from under the pile of his demons.

******

The down trodden Rommie slowly dragged herself down the empty corridor. 'Why did I let them go?' She kept torturing herself with that same question with every footstep. Suddenly, her hologramatic self sprang into view, blocking her path.

"We had to, you know that. Tyr will be back soon and Harper....well...he will come back." The illuminated Andromeda said with much more doubt than Rommie wanted to hear. "Trust me, it's for the best."

"I want to...but...but" Rommie sputtered out as her built in emotions overwhelmed her logic chip.

"Rommie, come on, compartmentalize. You need to focus on your task at hand. Remember where you are going. Dylan's. You need to make him understand. You need to break through that thick stubborn head of his and get him to see the truth." Rommie's head still hung low as she imagined the stressful, emotional confrontation that her future held. "We will get our crew back, we will," the hologram said this time with much more confidence right before she fizzed from view in order to let Rommie get on with her important job.

Rommie stood in the over willingly silent hallway as she commanded her emotions to obey her orders. Slowly, her head rose as determination lit up her brown eyes. "We will get them back," she said strongly as she marched off towards the grounded captain's quarters.

********

The wind gently blew through his thick hair as he waited on the side of one of the many rolling hills that ran beneath the stunning overpowering mountains. The sky was a majestic purplish-dark blue with bursts of deep red as the second sun slowly began to hide behind the mountainous horizon. In the distance, in one of the valleys below, he could just began to see the closest settlement start to twinkle like stars as lights began to flicker on to prepare for the long night ahead.

There he sat in the tall willowing yellow grass with his face turned up towards the ever increasingly darkening sky as he watched the first star twinkle into view.

'They will be here soon,' filled his thoughts as he sat and watched as more and more stars began being born into the night.

*******

Dylan stood under the bright lights of his wash room as he fingered his newly forming bruise on his right cheek. Tilting his head so he could get a better view, he examined his injures in his shimmering mirror. He brought up a damp cloth and began to clean the gapping cut that sliced through his left eyebrow. "Damn that Tyr," he hissed as the antiseptic on the cloth sent as harsh stinging sensation all around the cut.

After letting out a few more inappropriate words, he resumed cleaning his fighting wounds. His painful disinfecting was rudely interrupted by his door hissing open and by the sounds of angry foot falls rushing towards him.

Spinning around, he readied himself for another all out battle with Tyr but was surprisingly greeted by the fine, delicate, curvy form of Rommie instead.

"Dylan," she said with the authority only a warship could use. "We need to talk right now."

The captain finished wiping off his face and made his way out of the small washroom to greet his furious looking avatar who was standing in the center of his main room. "Ok... about what?" he said with sigh as he plopped down on his bed next to her. He really didn't want to talk or listen to anyone right now, except maybe for letting his fist give Tyr a lecture.

Rommie turned to face her seated captain. She looked him straight in the eyes. "About Harper."

That "H" word sent a wave of fury up Dylan's spine as his hands turned into fists, grasping the delicate cloth on the bed. The previous landscape of soft, gentle rolling hills turned violently into steep mountains and deep valleys. His eyes became mere slits as his eyebrows dug deeply into the upper bridge of his nose. "What about him?" He asked through gritted teeth. 

"I've sent him off the ship. Tyr is taking him....um...somewhere." The last word came out as a mysterious whisper.

But Dylan didn't care about the mystery. Harper was finally off of his ship!! He jumped off the bed and ran over to hug Rommie. "I knew it! I knew you'd see it my way!!" His face resembled that of a first time father who was just informed that his baby was perfect and healthy. 

Rommie quickly broke out of his embrace and stepped back, an angry glare filled her face. "No Dylan. You are still wrong and they are both coming back. The situation onboard needed to be defused and Harper is the key. Tyr will be back in a few days, and Harper will come back...um...later." A sorrow filled expression crossed her face for a nanosecond before she was able to regain control.

Dylan took a step back as his dream faded from view only to be replaced by a nightmarish reality. "WHAT!? No!! Rommie, they need to stay off, they are the problem. You are not to let them back on and that is an order!! I am still the commanding officer here!"

Rommie stood her ground. "Respectfully, no Captain. You are lacking important information and your judgment is clouded. Until you understand the truth of the situation, I am force to rel...."

"DON'T YOU DARE FINISH THAT SENTENCE!!" Dylan yelled as he approached the threat to his command. "No, I am in command and you will not relieve me of duty!" His face was now blood red.

"I'm sorry Captain, but you are acting irrationally. I don't know how much you are being effected by Fex, but you are just not yourself. If you will just hear out what I have to say, then we many not have a problem at all." Her voice was held calm, steady and very determined.

Dylan crossed his arms to mirror Rommie's position, but his added pout was his own creation. "Fine, what do you have to say," he said more in the voice of a spoiled five year old than a respected High Guard officer.

Rommie took a step closer to the pouting captain, bridging the gap to mere inches. Her eyes were glued onto his as she began to speak. "Harper is not the monstrous traitor you believe him to be. He saved everyone. He even risked his life to save all of you. If I hadn't gotten to him in time, he would have died saving the crew. Do you understand?"

Dylan's eyes bulged with unreleased anger. "No," he spoke evenly and in a forced calmness. "No Rommie, I really don't. Yes, he saved us, but how many times do I have to point out its the WAY he saved us?! He murdered thousands ruthlessly and he tortured all off us with great skill! A sane person should not be able to commit such actions! A sane person should not even have the skills to commit such actions!" As he yelled he closed the gap even farther between himself and Rommie.

"A sane person from before The Fall, Dylan!! In the world Harper grew up in what he did was normal. It was the only way to survive, to save his family. You....we...have to remember we are in a different universe now. Its not the happy, safe Common Wealth universe anymore." Rommie was still speaking in a calm sensible voice.

"Screw that! It's just an excuse! Blowing up people, melting them is not survival, it's sick, evil and just wrong!" Dylan yelled. Rommie's constant defense of Harper was really starting to get to him. Damn it, he was her commander, her captain. Her loyalty was suppose to lie with him, not some psychotic runt.

Rommie let out an exasperated sigh. "Dylan, why the disgust? Why the hatred?" She paused to look into his angry eyes. "Harper only resorted to what he knew. He loves you all dearly and falling back on his survival instincts from his earth years was the only way he could think of to save you." She paused again to check Dylan's response. Still he greeted her with a scowling face. Anger started to takeover her circuits. "Damn it Dylan! He did it all for you and how do you repay him!? With hatred, with disgust!! I thought you were better than this! I thought you were a better man than this! Let it go! Forgive him for saving you pathetic ASS!!" By the end, she was yelling in frustration with her face mere centimeters from Dylan's.

As soon as her yelling ceased, Dylan's started up. "NO!!" He violently grabbed Rommie's shirt and shoved her up against the nearby wall. Fex was beginning to rear his ugly head. "You obey ME!! You don't protect that murderer! That torturer! Did you even see what he did to us!? DID YOU!?!? Where the hell did he learn to torture like that? To kill like that!? That is NOT survival instincts, that is experience. He's done it all before and he's lied to us, he hid his past from us! HE IS NOT WHO WE THINK HE IS!!" 

He push Rommie's body harder up against the wall as he grabbed her soft neck with one hand. The urge to snap off her artificial head grew stronger by the second. It took all his strength to control that urge. "I've seen the scars on everyone. I remember the torture like it was yesterday. That boy knew exactly what he was doing. He had done it before! HE IS A TORTURER AND A SICK SICK PSYCHOPATH!! Who knows what other hideous and depraved things he has done or what other secrets he is currently hiding from us!? Don't you understand?! I'm trying to save us from him! DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND!?" He yelled right in Rommie's infuriated face.

Within the blink of an eye, Rommie broke out of Dylan's choke hold and threw him across the room. He hit the wall with a thud and crashed down to the floor. Rommie was on top of him in seconds, pinning his back to the ground and his arms to his side. She stared down furiously at his struggling face while anger and righteousness burned bright in both of their eyes.

Rommie then began her yelling. "You wanna know where he really learned it?! Do you really want to know!?"

"Like you know," Dylan replied with a huff and rolled eyes.

"I do."

Those two words stopped his struggling instantly. He stared up at his trusty ship made flesh with hurt and betrayal. What else was she hiding from him.

Rommie took a deep breath, calming herself for the heart breaking truth. She had not wanted it to come to this. Quietly and calmly she began. "He learned all those horrible techniques through personal experience, only he wasn't the torturer, he was the victim. They were preformed on him."

"What!?" Dylan yelped as his logical world began to crumble.

"I've seen the scars Dylan. It all makes too much sense. He has the exact same cuts, same burns and even..." she paused has her head fell, "even the same impalement scars as Beka, only his are... much, much worse. Dylan, it killed him to have to hurt you, to hurt Beka and Trance and even Tyr. It killed him." Rommie paused to remember holding him outside of medical. She fought against the river of tears that built up behind her eyes. "Dylan, he was so careful with everyone. He made sure not to permanently hurt you. Didn't you notice that even after the painful torture he put you through, nobody has any permanent damage. Not even any nerve damage...unlike him," she sadly whispered the last words out under her breath as she remembered that Harper would never feel a comforting hand on his scared back.

Dylan was shell shocked. This whole time he had figured Harper for some great assassin and torturer, a mercenary like Tyr even. A charlatan who had taken refuge on his ship and was hiding his true identity until the time was right. But this...this changed everything. That was unless the genius had reprogrammed Rommie to fool him. He need proof. "Show me," he ordered knowing that she had to have records to back up her argument.

"Fine." Rommie stood up, releasing Dylan to stand up with a groan as he tweaked his twisted back. Together they walked over to the monitor that was imbedded in one of Dylan's elegant walls. Rommie closed her eyes as she commanded the monitor to activate and to bring up Harper's newly updated medical history records. While Harper had been recovering, she had used the time to catalogue all of his wounds, scars and damage in hope that maybe one day they could be reversed.

As the first image appeared, Dylan's heart stopped in mid beat while his jaw fell to the floor. A large lump was forming in his throat as well.

On the monitor was an image of Harper's uncovered back. While the skeletal, famished appearance was quite grotesque it was the white, glaring scars crisscrossed more scars and even more scars that held Dylan's attention. There was not an inch that was normal skin.

Rommie's quiet soft voice broke in, "Apparently the scarring is so bad that all the nerves on his back are dead. He can't feel a thing."

Dylan's lump grew larger and moved up his throat.

Rommie brought up the second image and Dylan's eyes widened farther. 'How could I have been THIS wrong,' he thought as tears glazed over his gapping eyes.

The new powerful image was that of the young man's chest. Again, hills and valleys of scars littered his skin, but a few particular scars made Dylan's heart break. There on Harper's small frame, were Beka's impalement scars, only Harper's were deeper, larger and uglier. They even had a nice circular pattern of burns around each one. Dylan's stomach turned as he could only image what could cause that type of scaring and how Harper had spared Beka that pain.

"Oh my god..."Dylan gasped out as his pervious well thought out theory shattered around him. 

Rommie looked over at her crumbling captain. A single tear was running down his tortured, wary face. Quickly she turned off the monitor, he had seen enough. She silently hoped Harper would be able to forgive her for exposing his very private past...that was if she ever saw him again. Silently, she stood next to her quivering commander who's unblinking eyes were still glued on the empty, black monitor.

"What have I done?" He finally whispered as he collapsed to the ground into a ball of brawling emotions. 

Rommie sat down next to him and put her arms around his trembling body. "It's ok, Harpers is going to get help and while he's gone the rest of the crew will get better. Then there will be the grand reunion with cake and balloons and confetti. Maybe we can even get a mime." Both depressed and overwhelmed beings had to crack a pathetic laugh at the image. 

Silence returned quickly as the harshness of the situation fell back over the room.

"But I said such horrible things to him, I...I.." His tear streaked face looked up at Rommie with horror. "Rommie, I beat him to a pulp! It was all me, not Fex, that was ME!" More tears of regret streamed down his face. Guilt had suddenly replaced all of his anger as he realized how he had brutally beat that poor man not once, but twice. After all Harper had been through, he, Dylan Hunt, had added a few more beatings onto his long list. The image of the engineer's body filled his thoughts...those scars. The High Guard captain couldn't even image how the young man could have accumulated so many at such a young age. Dylan's face fell into his cupped hands as he sobbed realizing he had just added to those scars. It all made sense now, he understood everything and he understood how much he must have hurt the boy mentally. Guilt and regret overcame the strong captain as his body was wracked with heavy sobs.

Rommie pulled Dylan into her just as she had done with Harper. "Its okay Dylan. He'll forgive you and you need to forgive yourself. You thought you were protecting us," she whispered hoping her gentle voice could push away his increasing flood of overwhelming emotions. Hope lit up in her circuits as she realized she was about to have her Dylan back. Now they needed the girls. "Dylan, listen to me, it's not over yet. Trance and Beka still need help. We need everyone to be able to face Harper when he comes back. Okay?"

Dylan slowly regained his composure. Soon his head was back up and he was wiping away the river of tears. "We can get through this," he said with confidence as he finally realized there really were no monsters on his ship and it was all in his imagination.

******

Tyr expertly landed the Slipfighter on the grassy waves of land of the now darkened planet. From the cockpit, he could just make out the lone figure on a nearby hill who had been awaiting their arrival.

"It is going to be okay child," he whispered to the still sleeping tortured soul behind him. Gently he lifted Harper's very lightweight body from the small ship. The boy still reeked of alcohol that stung the Nietzschean's sensitive nostrils. At a brisk pace he began his way towards the approaching figure with the boy cradled in his arms.

"Welcome, it is good to see you," the being said.

"As you." 

The humanoid looked at the withering away Harper. "He looks bad, I hope I can be of some help. Come, follow me, the cabin is just over that hill," the figure said as he pointed over a moonlit grassy incline.

Silently the group of three walked toward the small isolated cabin as their way was lit up by the three radiant moons that magically hung overhead. Finally they reached the small one room wooden house. Once inside, Tyr gently laid down Harper on the soft mattress on the dirt floor that huddled in one of the corners. He covered the mud foot's miniscule body with the thick, fluffy comforter which almost swallowed up the small young man. Tyr uncharacteristically brushed back some of the stray rebellious strands of blonde hair that jumped out onto Harper's forehead. "You behave and get better...you can beat this little man," he whispered knowing full well that his charge could not hear him.

Silently he stood up and made his way over to the door where the being still stood waiting. "Good luck, he is going to be a handful," Tyr advised the doomed caretaker.

The being nodded with understanding. "I will keep you updated on his condition."

Tyr nodded as well and began the short hike back to the Slipfighter. As he walked, he looked up at the radiant night sky and silently sent Harper some of his strength. The stoic loner of a Nietzschean hated to admit just how much that annoying little professor had worked his way into his heart.

********

Dylan paced the entire length of command as he awaited Beka's arrival. There was only one last slip point until they reached the nebula and she was on her way to command to pilot the massive ship.

"What to say...what to say?" he muttered to himself as he walked a trench into the metal grated floors. He had no clue on how to approach the new sullen, depressed Beka...hell he normally didn't have clue on how to approach the spunky, all attitude Beka. He begged his mind to hurry as he heard Beka's dragging footsteps approach command.

Dylan gulped down the lump that had returned to his throat as he readied himself for the first of many counseling sessions. 

"The next new crew member we bring on board will be a psychologist...definitely, "he mumbled as the doors hissed open.

********

The light from the first sun rising over the mountains filled the small room of the lone cabin. A sunbeam let in by one of the windows slowly crossed the floor and made it's way over to Harper's sleeping face. He felt the warmth tingled against his skin. It felt so nice. He could also feel the warm soft covers embracing him. A smile curled up onto his lips as he snuggled deeper into the hollow of the soft mattress.

But then, within a second, the happy sleeping boy transformed into a wide away, panicking mudfoot. He shot up into a crouching position with his back against the wall. His face was covered in a cold sweet and pure terror held his expression hostage. Reality had just worked it's way into his drug induced foggy mind.

As his head pounded with the aftereffects of a week of drinking, his eyes darted around the room trying desperately to figure out where he was. Question after question raced through his mind: Why had Rommie drugged him? What happened after she drugged him? How did he get here? And where the hell was here?

All he saw in the room were blank wooden walls, barren dirt floors, a few windows, an area that looked like a make shift kitchen, lots of candles...and a door! His eyes wanted to latch onto the door, but his instincts told him there was more to the room than he had seen. Then he sensed it. Movement, breathing, a heartbeat. Someone was there with him. His heart raced as his eyes scanned the darkened corners that the glaring sun had not yet reached. Then, there in the darkened corner by the door he saw it, movement. 

"Wh-Who's there?" He asked from his croaky, dry, cotton filled throat.

"Calm down, I won't harm you." Slowly the figure stepped out into the light. Second by second the invading sun rays revealed more and more of the mysterious being.

As Harper could make out more and more of the figure's features, his eyes widened first in great fear and then in great surprise. Harper's voice was swallowed up by his overwhelming emotions.

The being was now fully in the light. He raised his bowed head and spoke in a kind, raspy tone. "I could never hurt you, Master Harper, the Devine would have my head."

Harper released his frozen breath just long enough to gasp out, "Rev!? Is it really you!?"

TBC......


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: I'm so sorry about the wait, but moving sucks, and by sucks I mean sucks up free time. I really appreciate your reviews and patience. {{{{reviewers}}}} And don't worry, I'm not giving up on this sucker until it's done, yes, I might be in a nursing home by then, but I'm not gonna give up damn it!

Ok, me shutting up, onto the long awaited chapter....

Chapter 27

"R-Rev...is that really you?"

Brother Behemial Far Traveler bowed his furred head once more. "Yes, it is I. The others hoped I could help you."

Harper remained in his crouched over ready to attack position as shock clung to his face. Rev...it was Rev. The demons in Harper's tightly sealed box in his mind began to pound to be let out, trying to take advantage of their captor's confused state of mind. Anger, hurt, and betrayal were the first to reach their clammy claws out of the cracks forming in their cage in his mind.

Memories of Rev's holographic goodbye message played over and over on the walls of his mind. With each new frame of the home movie, the cracks in his box grew larger and larger until finally it shattered. As the shards flew across his mind, Harper jumped up and flew across the barren room towards the surprised magog. Tackling Rev, Harper started to pound the scary bat-like face. Even the pain radiating from his still healing arm did not stop the fury of punches. "YOU BASTARD! YOU, help ME!? Just like you helped me last time? HUH?! WHERE WERE YOU THEN!?" The emotions that had laid dormant for nearly a year now raced through his body like water from a broken damn. "You left me Rev! You left me when I needed you the most! YOU LEFT ME TO DIE!" Tears were fighting to escape through the anger but the rage was still too strong, all that could escaped the black hole of Harper's heart was unrestrained fury.

Fist after fist landed on the fury flesh, but Rev never fought back. He knew this was coming and even believed he deserved it to some extent. Images of Harper dieing without Rev at his side still haunted Rev's dreams even after he learned the boy had survived the larva. Rev had spent many a hours meditating for forgiveness from the boy, but meditation could only solve so much.

Minutes of pummeling the furry creature pinned beneath Harper quickly zapped his already minimal strength. Each new punch was weaker and each new hovering fist was trembling more than the last until the punches stopped all together. His arms hung limply by his sides as his chin dropped down to his chest. Wheezes escaped his lungs as he gasped for air.

Rev looked up at the boy who still had him pinned by sitting on his chest. This was not the Harper he had left, this was a stranger....some ghastly thin, haunted ghost of a man. No matter whoever it was, Rev need to reach out to the lost soul. "Master Harper," he started quietly, "I hated what I had to do to you. I wanted to stay, to support you, to be with you, but....but, my demons would not allow it. For my moment of weakness I will forever be sorry. I had hoped that by helping you now I could begin to redeem myself in your eyes and heart. I do not expect forgiveness, but please, let me help you." 

Silence hung over the room as tension filled the air. Harper's head still hung down as sweat slowly rolled off his forehead, down his nose and fell into the vastness that was Rev's fur below. But inside of Harper's mind it was a whirlwind, a raging storm of thoughts and emotions. He was with Rev, the other's sent him away, to here, wherever here was. They kicked him off, drugged him. They didn't want him and rightly so. But Rev? Rev...did he even want to see that ugly face again, did he want his help, did he want any help? Did he still want to die? To live? To pay for his crimes? So many questions whirled in his exhausted mind and there were no answers in site.

Slowly his pushed his trembling body off of the beaten and bloody magog. Turning his back on Rev, he hesitantly stumbled over next to the mattress on the floor. There he stopped, just standing, staring out the window that stood above the bed. Outside he saw the long glowing blades of grass flowing in the soft breeze. Clouds floated overhead, passing before the suns, blocking out their life giving light only to retreat moments later. A strange bird-like creature dived down into the tall grasses and disappeared. Seconds later it reappeared with a small insect in it's mouth. It was all so simple out there. Life, death, survival. That was the way it was suppose to be, simple, no emotions, no questions, just eat or be eaten. But the human's mind was such a mess that he didn't even know which he wanted, to be eaten and die or to eat and live. "To be or not to be," he whispered ever so quietly.

Behind him he could hear Rev quietly standing up, groaning as he checked his injuries and then those furry, clawing feet scraping over the dirt floors coming near him. 

"Harper?" Rev's raspy voice asked in great concern. Still no answer. The change in his friend sent a wave of shivers down his spine. When Rommie had contacted him a few days ago, she informed him of the situation and of all the horrors that had happened. But this...this quiet, haunted Harper was worst than he could have ever imagine. Standing next to Harper now, Rev gently placed his clawed hand on the boy's shoulder. Harper responded with a slight flinch but did not budge or say a word. Rev took a deep breath and then whispered in his raspy voice. "Harper, please say something."

Ever so slowly, Harper's head began to turn away from the window and towards Rev. The face that greeted Rev would haunt his dreams forever. Red, glazed over eyes, unwilling to let the wave of tears behind them fall. Cheek so hallow and eyes sunken in so deep that his face look more like a skull than the face of a living, breathing person. The light flooding in from the window only made the shadows on his face deeper and darker. Looking Rev dead in the eyes, Harper finally opened his mouth. "Rev, if you really want to help me, please do like you did before and leave me to die."

Rev was the speechless one now. Those eyes, that voice, those words. He desperately searched the face before him for any sign of his old friend, for any sign of hope, but only death, sadness and pain looked back. Gently he took both of Harper's twig like arms in his hands and turned him around so that they were facing each other. "I'm sorry Harper, but I won't do that...not again. I will not leave you again even if you beg me to. You are too special, too unique, too wonderful to lose. You are needed, wanted and loved. Do you understand that? Do you understand what losing you would do to the others...to me? As much as you might want to leave, the universe needs you Master Harper, as do your friends."

Harper's face had dropped back down almost instantly as the first word entered his ears. More doubts, more questions joined in the storm in his mind. Did they really still love him? Did they ever love him? Would they care if he was gone? How could they still want him around after what he did!? They were crazy, but not that crazy. His mind was being torn apart, the escaped emotions constantly fighting for his attention. He brought his face up to look at Rev's only to be greeted by those soft warm brown eyes. Why couldn't they just let him die? He was getting so sick of having to fight everyone for death. Death was suppose to be easy, death was what he had fought against his whole life and now that he actually wanted it, they would not let him have it. 

Completely sick of everything and unsure of what to do, Harper slumped down onto the mattress and crawled over to the far corner. There he sat, with his knees drawn up tightly to his chest, his chin buried in the crook of his knees and his eyes staring off into thin air. Silently he began to rock himself back and forth completely ignoring the other being who was in the room. The other being who was now full of concern and haunted with worry.

Rev stood there watching Harper rhythmically rock himself in the dark corner. His eyes still glazed over and now barely blinking. For the first time, Rev was at a lost about how to help his friend. Knowing that at least now there was nothing he could do until Harper's next move, Rev turned around and headed for his mediation area which really was most of the small barren cabin. "May the Divine help us," he whispered as he walked away from the quiet shut down Harper.

******

Hours later Harper had not budged an inch. He was still the rocking ball in the dark corner on the mattress. Across the room, almost as still, was Rev, in a deep state of mediation. Candles flickered all around him yet their light was lost in the sun lit room.

Harper's troubled eyes were still glazed over with unshed tears as he gazed off into the nothingness that only he could see. Again across the room, another set of eyes gazed off into a different nothingness, a nothingness of hope, wisdom, and life. The two beings that shared the quite room were so alike and yet so different. One, hopeless and lost, believing he held a monstrous being deep within his innocent helpless exterior, and the other, hopeful and centered, knowing full well the monster the world perceived him as but wished they could see inside to his kinder and gentler soul. So different and yet so similar, the two sat in silence for hours.

Slowly the sun lit room grew redder as the first sun began it's journey down below the horizon. It's brother would soon follow.

Rev's candles began to come into their own as the room grew darker and darker. But in the encroaching darkness, Harper's demons were also coming into their own. All day he had been fighting with that locked box in his mind, constantly kicking one escaping claw after another back into their confinement. Happiness, betrayal, trust, anger, love, shame, all tried to claw their way out of the ever weakening box.

As the alcohol was draining from his body, his mind was becoming clearer and clearer. His demons were getting louder now that the haze of the depressant was fading away. Panic began to overcome Harper and his eyes began to dart around the sparsely furnished cabin hoping to find anything that could bring back his fog engulfed mind. His heart rate increased, as did his breathing, as his desperate visual search came up empty.

More and more hairy and scaly arms reached out of the widening cracks in his box. The never-ending silence and sobriety were fueling the raging demons as the cracks were getting larger and larger and larger....

"AArrrgghhh!!" Harper finally screamed as he leapt up from his day-long sitting fetal position. Still deep in mediation, Rev barely noticed the shattering of the silence. With a wild look of desperation in his eyes, Harper began to tear into any box or container that existed in the one room cabin. Lids, blankets, and sealed containers went flying as the haunted man searched for anything that could sedated his ghosts. "Fuck Rev, I need booze!" Harper cursed as yet another box came up empty.

But Rev didn't respond to the mad man who was destroying his home. He only sat on the floor, meditating. He could sense the boy's frantic search going on behind him and could smell the sweat of fear radiating off of Harper's body. Several bottles went slamming into the wall behind Rev and soon the sound of chirping insects surrounded him. 'Great, there goes dinner,' Rev thought with good natured humor. Still, he sat, unmoving, allowing Harper to work out his anger and frustration on all of his meager belongs.

As each new box or containers shattered against the cabin's wall, a new crack would form in the box in Harper's mind. Arms, heads, and torsos of various monsters now were clawing out of the gaping cracks. As Harper smashed the last useless container to the wall, his box shattered and all of his demons emptied out into his mind at once. 

Anger fought with love, trust battled betrayal. Harper's mind was a WW III in the demon world. Each emotion fighting for a moment of his time. Letting out a primal scream, Harper started kicking and throwing whatever was near him. Boxes and glasses went flying and smashing into the now dent covered wooden walls. Then he caught something out of the corner of his ragging eyes...Rev, sitting quietly in mediation, completely ignoring the whirlwind of Hurricane Harper. Harper had just found his emotional outlet.

Trembling with emotion and exhaustion, Harper raced over to Rev, grabbed him by his cloak, lifted his furry body off the ground and pushed him up against the nearby wall. "Booze, drugs, anything!? Where Rev!? I need something...anything!" Harper screamed into the face of the magog.

The only objects that was still calm in the destroyed, chaos filled room were Rev's eyes. "Those things will not help you Master Harper, you know that." He spoke with confidence and safety as the mad man pushed him harder into the wall. 

Harper was breathing heavily as sweat glistened on his flushed skin. "Fuck you Rev! They will help! You have to have something! Medicines, plants...hell, I'll even lick a freak'n frog if you got one! I just need something to dull my thoughts...I can't take it...Rev, I just can't take it..." As suddenly as Harper had attacked, he let the monk go and sank to the ground, cradling his head in his trembling hands. The demons had taken over and were now in the middle of a home movie matinee. Images of his parents dieing while protecting him, images of his year with the Pythos, images of the magog attack on Andromeda, images of Beka calling him an ego whore, images of his own hands hammering a spike into Be..."NOOOOO!!!" He yelled out hoping to stop the marathon of pain and heartache.

Rev crouched down next to Harper, making sure to not to encroach on the private boy's personal space. "Harper?" He asked with great concern and gentleness.

"Rev, make it stop, make it all go away, please," he begged as tears choked his throat, his head still buried in his hands.

"Make what stop Harper?" Rev knew Harper had to start verbalizing his traumas. The boy had a tenancy to lock things up, to hid his true feeling from everyone, including himself. 

"All of it, the pain, the emotions, the memories. I can't take it any more, too much, to much..." The rocking that had controlled Harper's body all day returned.

Rev looked over at the crumbling man beside. The boy was perched, rocking on the balls of his feet with his knees pulled in tight to his heaving chest while his troubled head was cradled in trembling hands. Silently, Rev sent out a pray to the Devine to protect Harper. He would do what he could, but any help was appreciated. Rev slowly reached out a claw to Harper's swaying shoulder. "Harper, tell me, would you want to give up all the good memories and emotions as well as the bad one?"

Harper stopped his rocking for a moment as he lifted his face from his hands. Staring at the debris covered floor, he thought. Good memories? He tried hard to remember good times, like the time Beka surprised him with a cake on his one year anniversary with her on the Maru. She had gone down to engineer with a cake covered in lit candles to celebrate the day. But Harper, having never had a celebratory cake, freaked out and quickly grabbed a fire extinguisher to put out the cake that he believed was on fire. Unfortunately Beka happened to be holding said cake and got covered in the fire extinguishing foam. Harper fondly remembered them breaking out into laughter anytime they saw a cake now. A small smile desperately wanted to show it's self on Harper's face, but before it could fight its way through, memories of the torturing of Beka overwhelmed the happier times. Would they ever be able to laugh at cakes again after what he did to her? Doubtful.

Not moving his gaze off the debris field Harper finally answered Rev's question. "Good memories just lead to bad ones, they are tainted, now and forever," he whispered with no sign of hope in his voice. He knew that he could never face the others. All he would see was the pain he caused them. "Rev," he spoke in little more than a whisper, "I can't go on like this. All I see and feel is pain. I've hurt my friends, my family...more than I can even imagine. I can never go back. I...I...I don't want to be here anymore, but...promised Tyr...and..." He paused to take a deep shaky break before his whispered, "and I don't deserve death." Harper's head dropped back into his hands before he fell from his unsteady perch on his toes to his knees. His head fell to the ground as his arms came up protectively around it. His body was finally wrenched with pent up broken sobs.

Rev fully sat down next to Harper and placed a claw on Harper's heaving back. There the friendly comforting claw sat while it gently massaged the boy's back in soothing circles...soothing circles that Harper couldn't feel. Minutes passed until finally exhaustion overcame the sobs and Harper passed out.

Gently Rev lifted Harper's lightweight body off the floor and placed him on the mattress. As he covered the boy with the blanket, he whispered, "You're right Harper, you don't deserve death. You deserve to live the wonderful, trouble free life that you only know from your dreams." Quietly he stood up and padded back over to his now destroyed mediation area. There he stood as anger slowly over took him. "Damn you!" He cursed up at his Divine as he kicked an already shattered glass bottle across the room where it shattered even farther. He did not want to except the fate that Harper had been dealt, his Divine should not be that cruel. What purpose was there in giving that boy any more heartache? Taking a deep calming breath, he sat down on the floor and tried to begin to mediate in order to make sense of the madness.

TBC.....


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: First, thank everyone for the feedback and review. I absolutely love them. {{{reviewers}}}   
Second, I wanted to say sorry for taking so long. Hopefully once my life gets back to normal, I'll be better at updating. Buttttt.....since you've all been so good in waiting here is a nice long, long chapter for ya!   
So enjoy and I hope this doesn't get too boring at times.   


Chapter 28

It took all of Beka's strength to drag her depressed soul up to command. All she wanted to do was to curl up in some nice dark corner and disappear. Harper was still haunting her every waking, and sleeping, thoughts and her only chance to escape the guilt and anger was in the chaos of the slipstream. That chance for peace was the only thing that was dragging her up to command.

Nearing command, she took a deep breath and hoped that no one would be in the room which awaited her. She could not take another one of Trance's pity-filled looks, or another one of Dylan's "Harper is evil" lectures messing with her already messed up head. At least Rommie and Tyr were giving her space, space to think, space to be alone. They would come and check on her periodically, assumedly to make sure she was still somewhat sane and not about to do anything rash. Rash like falling back onto the comfort of Flash, or escaping the pain in the most extreme and unchangeable way. She hated to admit it, but both of those thoughts were always hovering just above the constant haunting images of Harper in her mind.

The hissing open of the command door brought her mind back from the darkness of her thoughts. In the real world, the second to last person she wished to see was standing in the middle of command looking unusually nervous. There, fidgeting like a mad man with sweat glistening on his worry etched face, stood Dylan Hunt, a.k.a. "Mr. Lets-Throw-Harper-Out-An-Airlock".

As much as she felt betrayed by Harper, Beka still could not get behind Dylan's "Harper is evil incarnate" theory. She would remember what she was forced to say to him, how his eyes look so empty and hurt by the words...ego whore. Those words even sent a shiver down her spine. He was not evil, he had just done bad, degraded, psychopathic things. What got her was why now? Why did he not protect them the many times he would cower like a sick puppy behind each and everyone of them? Why was he hiding his survival kick ass side from them? She had so many questions, so many doubts, so many contradictory emotions, and all Dylan was was a high speed blender to those already mixed up emotions. 'Why him?' she groaned to herself. 'And why is he so nervous, what's he up to?'

As the door hissed closed behind her, she got her answer. Dylan stepped forward, looked down at his fiddling hands, looked back up, took a deep breath and spoke. "Um...Hi Beka. Uh, we need, um, I think we should...have a chat."

Beka eyed him suspiciously due to his odd behavior. Where was the anger, the preaching? But a chat? That was the last thing she wanted. "Look, Dylan, I just want to pilot, to get us to the drop off point for the beacons. And anyway, I know your speech, Harper is evil, I got it, okay." She quickly stalked by Dylan to try to reach the piloting station and get away from the strange acting captain.

But before she could get too far, Dylan was in her face, blocking her path. "No Beka. That's what I need to talk to you about. I was wrong." He looked down in shame, "So very, very wrong." The words came out in sorrow laced whispers.

"What?!"

The High Guard officer took a deep breath trying desperately to control his new overwhelming feelings of guilt and shame. 'Must be strong, must get the others through this...for Harper.' he reassured himself. He lifted his head and with tears brimming in his eyes, he looked straight into Beka's confused icy blue orbs. "Beka, I was deeply wrong about Harper. He is in no way evil. He saved our lives at the risk of his own. There were reason behind his...um...extreme actions that we were unaware of. Rommie...," he paused. 'Should I tell her?' He pondered worriedly. "um...enlightened me." He hoped that would be enough information, that Beka would not want to know the gruesome fact, but knowing his feisty questioning second officer he knew she would not let it be. 

Beka shook her head in disbelief at what she was hearing. "W-What?" She spat out as her mind wrestled with the complete one eighty Dylan had just performed.

Silence was taking over command, so Dylan decided to fill the void. "Beka, I need you to understand this too...to accept it. We need our crew...our family, back together. For ourselves and for the universe. I need you to talk to me, tell me what's bothering you." He place a gentle hand on Beka's slumped shoulder.

The blonde quickly dropped her head realizing where the whole 'chat' thing was leading up to. An intervention, a therapy session, a lets-hug-all-the-pain-away chat. Well Beka Valentine was in no mood for any crappie warm and fuzzy chatting. "Go away." She spat out as she pushed him to the side in order to reach the piloting station once more. But almost instantly, she felt a strong hand gripping her arm as Dylan spun her back around to face him. 

"No," he said in his full captain voice. "Not until you talk. Harper is coming back on board and you need to be able to face him again."

Again, confusion filled Beka's face. "BACK on board?! You mean he's not here now?" This whole thing was becoming like a very confusing dream. First Dylan's new personality and his wonderful vagueness, and now he's telling her Harper left and they didn't tell her. Mentally she tried to pinch herself to wake her from the chaos.

Dylan sighed as he realized that in his own emotional confusion he never informed any of the others about Harper and Tyr's little trip. "Um, yah, Tyr took Harper away to get some help, um, from.....um..." he paused knowing her reaction would be similar to his outright shock when Rommie told him who she sent Harper to go see. "...Rev." He stated quietly.

Beka's jaw dropped. "REV!!" She shook her head. "This has to be a dream, has to be." Massaging her temples, Beka tried to let the information sink in. Rev? They sent the now non-evil Harper to Rev. Her head shot back up and stared angrily at Dylan. "REV!!! Our Rev!? The Rev we haven't heard from for almost a year!? The Rev that abandoned Harper when he was dying!? W-Wha...Why....W-Who's brilliant idea was that!?" Anger and sarcasm dripped off her words. One thing Beka Valentine hated was being kept out of the loop, especially when it involved her crew, no matter how psychotic they had become.

Dylan looked down as if he was just scolded by school teacher Beka. "Rommie and Andromeda's. While we were all unconscious, they were able to track him down through some of his associates from several Wayist monasteries. She, they actually, couldn't think of anyone else who might be able to help Harper...but we are getting off the topic here, the topic is suppose to be your feelings Beka."

Looking up at Dylan in complete disbelief, Beka started yelling. "MY FEELINGS!? My feelings!? You just tell me you believe Harper is trustworthy and not evil, that there was a reason that you won't share, and that Rommie sent him off to see Rev of all people and you want me to talk about my frelling feelings!?" She paused to take a deep breath. "Fine. Confused, okay, I'm feeling utterly confused!" Her hands were in tight fists as her eyes glowed with anger. "And just a little angry if you can't tell." 

"Understandable." The captain said with guilt in his voice while he silently hoped Beka would not ask that one question he was dreading.

Minutes passed as Beka's fury calmed down and her mind was settled enough to think straight. "Okay, help out my confusion here. What is the hidden mysterious reason for Harper's..." she shuddered as she remembered the torture and the melting Pythos, "psychotic behavior?" She ended by giving Dylan her you-better-answer-me-or-you're-dead look.

Dylan dropped his head as his hopes were smashed. He was going to have to share Harper's secret to save the unity of his crew. He only hoped Harper would forgive him. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself to break Beka's heart. "Beka," he looked directly into her eyes. "You've lived with Harper for about seven years now. Have you, in any of that time, seen his bare back or chest?" he asked hoping she would be able to connect the dots herself if she had seen the scars.

Beka looked down as she remembered the first time she caught a glimpse of Harper's brutalized body. He was just coming out of the shower and she walked in on him by accident. He froze like a deer in headlights for a second and then regained his senses. Quickly he covered his scar-ridden body and slammed the door in Beka's startled face. When Beka approached him later and asked how he got the scars, he simply looked down, mumbled "Nietzscheans", and walked away quickly. Never again was the subject mentioned.

Returning her thoughts to the present, she looked back up at Dylan. "What does his body have to do with...the..." Her words grew softer and slower, "...oh...crap," she whispered as the information finally clicked together. "The torture," her quivering hand flew to her lips, 'T-That's how he....oh god." 

Dylan walked up next to her and supported her gently in his arms. Beka was beginning to tremble all over as the swarming mess of emotions and information were finally beginning to find their homes again. Then a horrifying thought hit her head on and a gasp escaped her lips. "A-Andromeda..." she paused not really wanting to know the answer to the next question. "Do you know if the Pythos have ever invaded Earth?" She held her breath waiting for the answer.

"Yes, they have." The all powerful voice answered.

"When?" Beka closed her eyes and hoped that her hunch would be wrong.

There was a pause before Andromeda answered. "Twelve years ago. They occupied Earth for two years." There was a hint of sadness in the normally cold voice as the AI knew what her crew were about to discover.

As the humans did the math, the light bulbs above both of their heads suddenly lit up in a storm. "Oh crap," they whispered in unison.

Beka looked up at Dylan with tears brimming in her eyes. "Harper would have been fifteen."

"Andromeda," Dylan spoke to the air. He needed to know for sure that their hunch was correct. "Is there anyway you can get an idea of how long Harper has had his scars?"

The air answered him. "Not to an exact year, but I would estimate they are around maybe ten to fifteen years old." 

"That explains it all then," Dylan whispered as the last few pieces of the puzzled fell into place. Harper wasn't hiding evil this whole time, he was hiding immense feelings of hurt, pain, and anger. He hadn't been holding back on them, using them as shields while he was faking defenselessness. No, he was just unleashing twelve years of build up anger in an act of understandable revenge. He was just a hurt, angry mudfoot doing the only thing he knew how to do. Survive.

Beka's legs begin to give way as all of her muddled emotions fell to the background and guilt overwhelmed her. Luckily, Dylan caught her just before she slammed into the floor. Together, both stunned captains slid onto the cold grated deck. 

"Poor Harper," Beka whispered into her hands as tears finally escaped her. 

Dylan pulled her in closer. "It will be okay, he has us now. We will get him through this. We will get through this."

"But...what we did to him...what I said to him...what I called him..." Sobs now shook her body. "H-How can he ever forgive us?"

"Beka, you have to remember, as Harper will, that we did not say those things. The Calastors did. They were also the ones who....who beat him." Dylan stumbled over the words as his own guilt was still too fresh. "We had no control then." Dylan felt Beka shudder at the words "no control". "He has to know that. If not, then we will have to help him understand that and show him how much we do care for him. We will get past this...we have to."

The weeping freighter captain felt Dylan's arm tighten around her trembling body. She felt her precious control slipping away as the tears began to intensify. 'No, can't loose control,' she ordered herself. Suddenly she stopped crying as if someone had dammed up her tear ducts. She swallowed hard as she pushed Dylan away. 

"Are you okay Beka?" he asked surprised by the sudden change.

"Yah, fine. You're right, we'll get through this. It will be fine." She said sounding very Harper-like. She quickly stood up, straightened out her tank top and started heading towards the piloting station. "We still have the beacons to put out and slipstream is calling me."

Following her lead, Dylan got up as well. Confusion and worry were etched in the wrinkles on his face. 'Is that it? Is Beka okay now? What is with my crew and hiding emotions all the time? Shrink, we definitely need a shrink,' he reminded himself.

Against his better judgment he decided to try to push her just a little more. "Is that it? A few tear and then back to slipstream?"

"Yes actually. I'm fine, okay. I'll deal." Beka didn't let Dylan ask another question as she quickly called forth the slip portal and piloted the large warship into the electrifying strings.

Dylan sighed as he watched Beka's mind disappear into the mediation of piloting the steam. 'Why is it never easy?' he thought to himself.

"Beka, just come to me if you decide you want to talk, okay?"

"Mm huh," Beka responded absentmindedly.

"A shrink, maybe two, definitely." Dylan mumbled to himself as he exited command leaving Beka behind to loose her pain in the vastness of the slipstream.

**********

Once again Harper felt the comfort and warmth of the sun brush against his face as it gently woke him from his dreamless slumber. Slowly he rolled over onto his side and was quickly reminded of his present living nightmare by the pain radiating from his still healing broken ribs. 

As he remembered Dylan's foot slamming repeatedly into his chest, all he could feel was numbness. Anger was absent from his mind, as was sadness or the need for revenge. It was as if his emotions had been sucked into a quantum singularity as he slept.

Gently pushing himself up into a sitting position, he glanced around the small cabin as the wonderful sweet scent of fresh oven baked bread and some other savory food filled his nostrils. Harper's eyes searched for the source of the aroma and saw crouching over the small stove the cloaked covered back of Rev Bem. Just like the way the smells had hit his senses, Harper's memories of last night hit his consciousness...the rampage, the attack, the breakdown. 'Great, add another friend to the people I've hurt list,' Harper thought as he tried to push his weak, malnourished body off the low mattress.

At the sound of Harper's grunts of pain as he stood up, Rev turned around to welcome the boy back to the land of the living but when Rev saw Harper's skeletal body he realized that that statement would have been a bit premature. Not only was the mudfoot's body close to dead, but his eyes had an emptiness in them that mirrored death. The breakdown last night was just a small step in Harper's recovery, a very small step.

In order to fix Harper's mind, he needed a healthy body. As Rev turned to face his guest, his furry hands held a large plate filled with the sources of the sweet aromas that filled the small cabin. Two large soft golden brown rolls laid next to a bowl of steamy creamy soup. "I'm glad to see you are up Master Harper. Did you rest well?" Rev asked as he watched with concern as Harper barely stood, wobbling as he tested out his weak, quivering legs.

As most of Harper's concentration was on making his world stop spinning and getting control over his legs, he only responded to Rev's inquiry with a grunt and a nod.

Slightly disappointed, Rev dropped his head an inch. He had been hoping to have made a little more progress with Harper's emotional state, but it looked like they might be back to the silent withdrawn stage. But no matter how slow the progress was going, Rev had promised himself to stick by Harper. He would not abandon him again.

Slowly the magog approached the still unbalanced human. "I thought you might be hungry since you haven't eaten in days." Rev held out the plate hoping for the best.

As Harper moved slightly to steady himself against the wall, he eyed the plate of food with disgust. Even though the hunger pains were eating him alive, he somehow found solace in the overwhelming pain. It was as if he was getting the punishment he felt he so deserved. There was also the fact that after almost a three weeks of eating next to nothing, the mere sight of food was enough to sent his stomach into convolutions. His digestive tract was turning into a happy loner and food was not wanted nor welcomed.

"No thanks," he grunted as he pushed his way past the monk making sure to keep one hand on the wall for support. He had no idea where he was heading but he was beginning to feel a little to trapped with a wall on one side and an magog with a tray of food on the other.

Rev turned as Harper pushed by him. "Let me rephrase that Master Harper. You need to eat, so eat." His gruff voice made the kind order sound much more threatening than intended.

Completely ignoring the demand, Harper continued on his escape to nowhere and all he knew was that nowhere was outside the small cabin. With that thought in mind, he was making a bee line towards the door.

"Master Harper." The normally calm voice had a demanding edge to it that sent a shiver down Harper's spine. A shiver which ordered his shaking and tedious steps to stop dead in their tracks.

"What?" He asked in defeat as he kept his back to the magog.

Rev walked up behind his charge as he regained his normal gentle and kind voice. "Please, eat." 

The pleading and sadness in the gruff voice demanded Harper to turn around and face his friend.

In the weak sun-lit light of the cabin Harper looked liked a skeleton that someone had dressed up as a joke. The gray long sleeve shirt hung like a sheet on his tiny pale frame. If Rev was not blessed with the superior senses to hear Harper's heartbeat, he would have thought him dead already. He knew that if the boy did not eat soon, that valuable heart beat would disappear into nothingness. "Please, Harper eat..." Fear filled Rev's dark eyes. "You're scaring me." He let the words hang in the air as he hoped Harper still cared more about his friends than about himself. 

The fear in Rev's voice awoke some of the slumbering emotions that resided deep within Harper's lock box. Looking down, Harper saw a lone shard of glass from the night before. He realized that the cabin had been cleaned while he slept. Guilt started yawning in it's corner of the box as it awoke. Harper had destroyed most of Rev's meager belongs, attacked him and then abandoned him as he passed out in weakness. Then, to top off Harper's shame, Rev was forced to clean the mess up himself. With his booted foot, Harper nudged the lone shard as he let the guilt wash over and engulf him. He would eat just to save Rev from any more pain.

Slowly he turned around to face the bowed magog. He reached out and grabbed the plate just before he slid his back down the wall and took up a sitting position. Rev nodded in acceptance and gratitude as he watched to boy begin to eye the food as if it was an alien about to attack.

"It's Recka soup. Made from one of the local animals. I've been told by the locals in the town that it is very tasty," Rev stated hoping to ease some of Harper's nervousness.

For a few more minutes Harper just spooned up the liquid and let it fall back to the bowl below. The steam had disappeared and the buns were hardening. Finally after working up his courage, one of the spoonfuls of liquid made it into Harper's mouth.

Almost immediately he started to cough as the lukewarm liquid burned down his sore throat and esophagus. He could feel the soup hit his vacant stomach as it sloshed around in the wide open space. As the minutes passed, his stomach tried repeatedly to expel it's unwanted guest as Harper struggled to keep the soup down. 

Rev watched as the engineer's face contorted into many uncomfortable positions as he eventually won the battle with his digestive tract. "How is it?" Rev asked with great uncertainty.

Harper barely glanced up at Rev as he gave a slight nod. He didn't dare to speak fearing that his stomach would take that opportunity to expel it's new guest. Very hesitantly, Harper brought another spoonful of soup to his chapped lips...

Two agonizing hours later the bowl was empty and all that was left of the rolls were crumbs. 

"Don't you feel better now?" Rev asked as he took up the empty plate.

Once more, Harper only grunted as his stomach was still trying to make up it's mind about it's new roommates. Groaning some more, he pulled his legs up against his full churning, aching stomach and leaned up against the wall.

As the human's complexion changed from pale to a nice shade of green, Rev's concern started to return. "Um, Harper? Are you okay?"

Just as he replied with a weak nod "yes", Harper's stomach decided it was better off alone and expelled it's unwanted visitors. Quickly his cheeks puffed out as he began to re-taste his partly digested meal. Swirling around to face the wall, he let his stomach have it's way.

Rev watched as Harper's body shook violently with convolutions as he rejected the food. Gently he crouched down next to the sick man just in time for the wrenching to stop and for him to hear a weak "Sorry" escape Harper's lips.

Rev quickly grabbed a clothe to clean up the mess. "Don't be. It's okay. Maybe it was just too much too soon. How about we skip the bread next time?"

Harper forced a smile on his face as he grabbed the towel from Rev and began cleaning up his mess. " 'Kay."

After the breakfast was washed off the floor, Harper had returned to his position of sitting quietly in the corner of the mattress. 

"How would you feel about some fresh air" Rev asked not happy about Harper's cocooned behavior. "The exercise would be good for you."

"Whatever," mumbled out of Harper's mouth.

"Good." Rev quickly gathered up some water containers and food and headed towards the door. "Come on," he said as he opened the wooden door and allowed the sunlight to invade the darkened room.

As the gentle breeze from outside hit Harper's face, he slowly pushed himself off of the mattress and dragged his lethargic body towards the light.

Outside, the darkness and confinement of the cabin disappeared amongst the sea green sky and the sister suns that hung above the foliage filled hills and valleys. Rev took the lead as they waded through the waist high flowing golden grasses. Soon they left the bright wide open space of the meadow and entered the cooling shade of the thick forests. A soft breeze wafted through the large old growth trees as the few invading rays of sunlight danced on the forest's floor. 

In total silence the two walked down a small dirt path that Rev had wandered down many a times. He was leading them to his favorite place, a place of great peacefulness and solace. 'Just what Harper needs,' Rev thought as he listened to the bird-like creatures sing their songs of wonder. 

Behind the monk shuffled Harper who was finding great interest in kicking the small pebbles that lined the path. Kick, step, kick, step. The rhythm was the only thing that could keep his now very sober mind occupied. 'I'd kiss Tyr for a beer right now,' he bargained as he was completely oblivious to the beautiful, colorful blooming flowers that grew on the trees around him.

As they continued deeper into the forest, Rev was keeping a close eye on Harper's state of being. He was hoping the still recovering human would be able to make it to his secret spot. As he enjoyed the symphony the forest provided, he was also listening for any slowing in Harper's uninspired footsteps.

After an hour of walking without one word exchanged they reached a barrier. Ahead of them was a wall of shimmering rock that rose up above them for miles, but Rev kept walking, seemingly ignoring the barrier life had just handed them. Harper slowed to see what the monk was up to. To their right, the rock wall was covered in leafy vines which Rev approached. He reached out and pulled the nature-made curtain aside to reveal a three foot wide crack that ran up the rock face. He turned back to face the halted Harper. "Are you coming?"

Still not saying a word, Harper answered with his actions as he stepped forward and followed Rev into the dimly lit cave. As soon as they entered the fissure, they could already make out the light radiating in from the other side. A hidden smile grew on Rev's face as they neared his sanctuary.

Harper felt at home in the confinement and darkness of the passageway, but the invading light from the nearing exit pushed away his sanctuary. A second later, sunlight hit his face with full force as he quickly shaded his eyes to see where Rev had lead them too.

The first thing Harper noticed was the water, the calm, shimmering water of the river that weaved it's way through the lightly forested canyon. Walls of rock rose up above them and surrounded them on all sides. The river flowed out from high on one of the rock walls and fell to the forested ground in a gentle waterfall. Once there, it weaved it's way through the small patches of trees and meadows only to disappear once more into a dark crack in the rock.

As peace engulfed Rev, he looked back to see how Harper was taking in the wonderful site. A blank expression still hung onto the pale face. Frowning Rev asked, "Shall we find a place to sit and rest before we head back?"

"Whatever," again Harper mumbled as he wanted to go back into the darkened cavern.

Rev took them to his favorite spot near the gently flowing river. There he took a seat under the shade of a large old tree which was wrapped in blooming vines. Harper plopped down next to him and rested his back against the tree's large trunk. 

Silence still hung over them like a thunder cloud. Being daring, Rev broke the silence as he pulled out the water and food from the small bag he was carrying. "Did you want to try any more food?" He showed Harper the rolls he brought.

Once more puffing out his cheeks and turning green, Harper quickly shook his head and pushed away the offering rolls.

"Well at least drink some water." Rev ordered throwing a container to Harper.

There they sat in silence as they watched the water pass by them, Rev in meditation and Harper fidgeting with the long blades of grass that they sat on. Boredom was encroaching on Harper's mind as his thoughts began to wander. Slowly one question grew and starved out the others as it overtook his mind. Silently he watched Rev. The magog looked to be in a state of complete peace as he sat and stared into the water. All Harper saw when he watched the water flow by was a chance to drown himself.

As he continued to watch Rev the question grew and grew until he could stand it no more. He took a deep breath and broke the silence. "Rev?" he asked quietly as he looked down at the blade of grass he fiddled with nervously.

Hope exploded in Rev as he heard that nasally voice. He turned his head and looked over at the source of his hope. "Yes Master Harper?"

"Um..." Slowly he looked up at Rev. "How do you do it?...I mean, how do you live with the knowledge of what you are, what you were created for...what you've done?" Surprisingly, his head did not drop back down but instead his eyes remained locked on Rev in hope of some answers.

Rev looked down, thinking of how to answer the difficult question posed to him. After a minute of returned silence he looked back up at the awaiting mudfoot. "That would have been easy to answer before we meet the Magog Worldship...but now...." he paused. "But now, I don't know how to answer that. Before I would have said I put my trust in the Divine, that it had reasons to make me what I am...but now, I am unsure of even that." He dropped his head in shame. "That is why I left you, to try to find an answer to that very question." He looked back up with sorrow and regret in his dark eyes. "I'm afraid to say I have not found an answer yet. All I know is that one must find their own path, their own answers....their own way to peace." 

Rev studied Harper to try to read the now stoic boy's reaction. Still that blank face remained. "Does that help any?" Rev asked with hope in the edge of his voice.

Harper pondered Rev's words...his empty useless words. "Find your own path." Great, what a load of help that was. His small egg of hope crumbled and cracked under the weight of all the doubts and unanswered questions. Darkness once more encroached his mind as the box of demons began to stir once more. Quickly Harper added on another titanium layer on the box as he shut out all feelings and thoughts. His mind was blank once more.

Gingerly he pushed himself off the soft ground. "Can we go back now?" he asked as he bypassed Rev's question.

Just like Harper's egg of hope, Rev's was crushed as well. He sighed and rose up next to Harper. "Yes," he said in utter defeat.

Slowly they left Rev's secret sanctuary and re-entered the forest. On the muted hike back through the woods, both beings enjoyed the views of their feet. Harper was wondering how long it would take him to starve to death while Rev was desperately searching for any sign of his Divine in his new world.

As the first sun fell below the horizon, the depressed pair reached the small cabin. Entering the shelter, the pair quickly disbanded with Harper slinking off to the darkest corner he could find while Rev took up occupancy at his mediation spot in the front of the one roomed hut.

A few minutes later, Rev turned to the occupied corner. "Harper, do you want to try any more food?" he asked with a hint of defeat still in his voice. 

Only silence answered. Quietly Rev stood up and approached the darkened corner to find out why there was no reply. As his eyes pierced through the shroud of darkness, Rev saw Harper. The boy was curled up in a fetal position on the dirt floor, sound asleep. 

Fearing movement might wake the sleeping boy, Rev just covered him in a blanket and stared down as his very troubled friend. "Oh Harper, what are we going to do with you?" he whispered to himself before he shuffled away back to his mediation.

Behind the retreating magog's back, Harper's eyes began to move rapidly underneath his closed eyelids while a look of utter fear flashed across his sleeping face.

TBC.........


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: Again, thanks for the reviews. I do love them. Now to make up for making you all wait so long the last few times, here is a nice speedy update. I hope everyone enjoys it. :)

Chapter 29

Rommie navigated her way down one of her many mazes of corridors as she simultaneously ease dropped on the captains' conversation in command. As Beka fell into Dylan's comforting arms, hope buzzed through Rommie's circuits as she realized that they were on the road to healing. 

A small smile graced her perfect face as she pictured Harper coming back on board to a huge group embrace with smiles lighting up everyone's faces. That dream crumbled as the face of Trance standing at Harper's door only a few hours earlier overtook her vision. There was so much hurt and fear in those mysterious eyes. The anxiety over the well being to the golden alien increased as Rommie neared her destination. Hydroponics, Trance's refuge and current location.

Entering the sweet smelling room, Rommie spotted the tail-less being immediately. There she was, sitting on a bench under a colorful blue-leafed tree with her favorite planet, Walter2, sitting in her lap. Trance was whispering to the plant as she stroked its smooth green leaves and massaged its soil. Her eyes were still red from the tears of the past.

"Trance," Rommie spoke gently as not to startle the muttering women.

Trance flicked her dreadlock covered head up to greet her visitor. "Oh, hi Rommie." All energy of hope had disappeared from her musical voice.

Walking over towards the shrouded bench, Rommie motioned to the spot next to Trance. "Do you mind if I join you?"

Trance just nodded.

Rommie gently sat on the faux wood bench. "We need to talk." That saying was very quickly gaining popularity on the ship.

Trance sighed and looked down at Walter2. "I know. I wanted to apologize for earlier...for not being able to do my job...to help Harper." The last three words came out as an agonizing whisper. Quickly she glanced up at Rommie with worry filled eyes. "How is he? Is he okay? He didn't...." Panic started to overcome Trance as Rommie's concerned voice and low key demeanor sent a horrible image flashing through her mind. 'Did she come to tell me Harper died and it was all my fault!?' she thought through her panic. 

Hearing Trance's increased heartbeat and ragged breathing, Rommie realized where Trance's mind had went. "No, no...he's fine. He's alive and fine." Rommie exaggerated as she placed a calming hand on Trance's shoulder. "I actually came to inform you that Tyr took him off the ship per my orders to get him some help." Rommie paused before she continued remembering Dylan's reaction to the next part. She swore she thought that vein on his forehead would burst any second. "Tyr took him to go see Rev. I hunted him down while everyone was sleeping off the...the...um...event."

Trance's face froze as she processed the information. Unfortunately, Harper never did seem to play a role in her perfect possible futures and therefore she could only get vague readings on his future. He didn't matter to the future or to her people, but he meant the world to her. Rev would be good for him, they always got along, Rev was always a calming influence on the impulsive, emotional human. She looked up at Rommie. "I think that was a wise choice and its good to know Rev is safe. He is safe, isn't he?"

"He seem normal when received his message, as calm and wise as ever." Rommie's face lit up with a slight smile as she remembered the joy of Rev's communiqué. In her time of panic over her imploding crew, he was there giving her a sense of hope and peace. Since she had received his message, she had replayed it many times as a source of comfort. 

Focusing back on Trance, Rommie proceeded to her second order of business. "Hopefully Harper will be coming back and I need everyone to be able to face him again. I know you've been having problem's dealing with him and I'm here to help. My ears are wide open." Rommie squeezed Trance's shoulder just as her programming advised her to do in situations like this.

Suddenly, Walter2 became of great interest again as the leaves were once more stroked through her golden fingers. Rommie waited patiently.

Trance's sad voice seemed to boom through the tense silence as her eyes remained locked on Walter2. "It's the cast." A deep breath. "Every time I see his arm, his crushed arm, I feel joy, sick twisted joy and the urge to crush his other arm. Then I feel...my feelings I guess, huge remorse and guilt at hurting him. It's just all too much. I want to help him, to be there for him....but...but those other feelings, Nixic's left over feelings scare me too much. I'm afraid of what I might do to him." The lump was returning to her throat as she looked up at Rommie. "I just want to hold him, to tell him we love him, that everything will be okay...but...I just can't." The tears finally fell down her face.

Rommie never realized how closely the Calastors and her crew had been linked until now. Worry and doubt returned to her circuits. It didn't help that at that moment in command she just witnessed Beka shut down again. Multitasking, she viewed Rev's message yet again.

She pulled Trance into a light one armed embraced. "I think you just need to remember those are not your feelings Trance. I've been watching you for a little two years now and I know how deeply you care for Harper. You could not possible feel joy at his pain or even wish harm on him." She cupped Trance's face with her other hand. "I know because you love him too much."

At that powerful "L" word, Trance fell apart and collapsed into Rommie's embrace. Walter2 fell over gently into their laps.

Rommie just held Trance as the mysterious golden alien began to let out her pain. 'It's going to be okay, it has to,' Rommie thought as she listened to Rev's final words on his re-played message:

"As long as they have each other and us, they will get through this. That I promise Rommie, that I promise."

**************

Darkness. Pain. Remorse. Tears streaming down Beka's pale face. The bloody knife sliding across his father's throat. Blood falling onto the dirt ground from his mother's lifeless face, her eyes forever frozen onto his cowering hiding place. Anger. Loss. Helplessness. The pain of a drill entering his back as laughter from the Pytho fills his head. Beka crying out for his help as he walks away from her restrained dyeing form. The deafening sound of Trance's tears as they fall onto the medical bed. Loneliness. Hopelessness. Darkness. Tyr's fist slamming into his battered face. The sound of his arm cracking under Trance's grip as her sweet, flowery odor fills his broken nose. The words "Ego Whore" echoing over his friends laughter as his life liquid rushes from his battered dying body. Chaos. Confusion. Never ending pain.

The curled up figure in the darkened corner began to writhe frantically as his mind was lost in the nightmares of his own horror filled memories. The cloaked back of the mediating magog failed to notice the tears slipping out of the clenched closed eyes.

Suddenly, a blood curdling scream punctured the silence of the night as the figure bolts up, gasping for air. His eyes as wide as the full moon that hangs over the lonely candle lit cabin.

Rev jumped at the sound of Harper's scream and was at his terrified friend's side in a matter of seconds. "Harper, are you okay?" He asked quickly in panic. As Harper found Rev's face, the monk could not find the words to describe the anguish that filled the young man's features.

Still breathing rapidly, Harper pushed Rev away and sprang to his feet. "Can't stay here, must leave, must go, can't cope." His quick pattern of speech was back in full force.

Jumping up, Rev rapidly grabbed Harper's arm. With the low light and the chaos, Rev unfortunately grabbed the wrong arm. The very wrong arm.

"NO!" Harper yelled out in pain and fear as he fell into the past. Trance's breath warmed the back of his neck, while her laughter filled his ears. 

Rev immediately let go of the arm realizing his mistake. "Oh, Harper! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to." He bowed his head in remorse.

"Must leave, can't stay." Harper continued his muttering as he absentmindedly rubbed his cast covered arm. His wild eyes spotted the door. "Must go." His feet began to move.

"No! Harper, don't go. Stay, calm down. It was just a dream, you are safe here. Please stay, talk, I'm here for you." Rev pleaded as he raced off to block the retreating human's path.

Amazingly quickly, Harper spun around and grabbed the approaching magog by the cloak as he swung him around and pressed the monk up against the wall. "Just a DREAM!? SAFE!? Screw you Rev! It was all real! It all happened! And no one is safe with me around! I can't take it! Just let me go!" He threw Rev to the ground and returned to his retreat.

In seconds Rev was back on his feet and standing before Harper blocking his path to the single exit. "No, I will not let you leave! You are going to get past this Harper. You have me and the others to help you. Let us help."

Harper's eyes lit up with pent up anger. "Just like you all helped me with the infestation!? Who cured me!? Who!? I did! You left me to die! The other's barely touched me while infested, barely helped find a cure! They just forgot about it! Pushed it out of their minds! It wasn't them who was dying, who was in agonizing pain living out his worst nightmare! So screw you and them! I don't need your type of 'help'." He shoved Rev to the side and marched towards the door.

Again Rev played yo-yo and blocked the path. He grabbed Harper by the shirt and lifted the light boy upward. "Now you listen here Seamus! You are not leaving! I'm sorry we abandoned you, but we will not make that same mistake again. You need help and we will make sure you get it! Now calm down!" He placed Harper back on the floor. "Try the mantra I taught you. 'My pain belongs to the Divine..."

Harper finished the verse, "It is like air, it is like...FREAKIN' EVERYWHERE!!! Now move before I make you move!"

The two determined eyes locked in the flickering light of the cabin.

"No." Rev stated.

"Fine." Harper took a fistful of Rev's cloak and hurled the magog to the side with surprising strength. He was in full fight or flight mode. Nothing would stop this little mudfoot, not even the pain radiating from his healing arm. As Rev crashed to the ground, Harper rushed the door, yanked it open and raced out into the twilight of the three moon lit night.

It took Rev a second to recover from the shock of Harper's physical ability. He now saw why the others were so worried. As quickly as he could, he got up and sprinted out the door after Hurricane Harper.

"SEAMUS! STOP!"

"Fuck you Rev!" his retreating back yelled.

Tapping into his inbreed speed, Rev quickly caught up with Harper and tackled him to the dew coated grass. He pined the struggling boy's arms under his legs and straddled the wiggling chest. "Harper, you must calm down before you do something you might regret. If you run now, you will always be controlled by your fears, by your past. You are strong. You must fight. You must not flee."

Harper barely heard the magog's words as images of Earth came rushing back. Rev's scent filled his conciseness as he felt the claws of a now ghost magog graze his back as he fled from his fallen cousins. The past and present were colliding head on. "Nooo!!! Too much!" He struggled harder underneath Rev.

Rev saw Harper's glazed over eyes and realized that the human's mind was not fully in the present. Gently he took Harper's face in his clawed hands unsure if it would help or send the boy farther into his nightmarish past. "Harper, listen to me, you're safe, calm down, I'm not going to hurt you."

The words pulled Harper back, but still he fought. "Let me go Rev! I can't stay! I can't be fixed this time...I'm too broken. Just let me go!" 

"No. Harper, you can fix anything and I know you can fix yourself."

Harper calmed down and looked into the magog's dark monstrous eyes. "Rev, please, let me go. You said we each have to find our own path, so let me go find mine."

"I know what path you are looking for and you know as well as I that drugs and alcohol will only hide your pain while they enhance it. That is not a path you want to go down."

Harper's breaths came more under his control as he completely stopped struggling.

"If I let you up, do you promise not to run away?" Rev asked as if talking to a child.

"Yah." Defeat filled his quiet voice as the adrenaline drained from his system.

Slowly, Rev pushed himself off of Harper's fragile body. "Come on Harper, lets go back, have some warm soup and talk." Rev reached out his hand.

The mudfoot laid in the wet grass for a moment before he finally decided to get up. He placed his hands in the thick grass to support his rise as he completely ignored Rev's helping hand.

That is when it happened. 

When Harper's face suddenly shifted from an expression of defeat to the strange suspicious look of confidence. Rev watched in confusion. "Harper?" He bent over to examine the strange change closer.

Suddenly, Harper's good arm came flying towards Rev's head as in his tightly grasped fist was a huge jagged rock. The rock his hand landed on in the tall grass. The rock that had shown him his path.

Red darkness surrounded Rev as the hard object slammed into his head. He felt a cool liquid rush down his face as the twilight of the moon lit night slowly darkened. "Harper..." he struggled to whisper. "Please, don't..." Nothingness swallowed up the rest of his plead as unconsciousness claimed the magog as its newest plaything.

Harper stood alone on the grassy hill as a breeze wafted over him. He looked down and watched as the blood poured out of the huge gash on Rev's forehead. The now red rock fell from his hand as he bend down next to his fallen comrade. The lone human reached his trembling hand out towards the sleeping beast. Relief washed over him as he felt the strong beat of Rev's heart under his fingers.

"I'm sorry Rev," he whispered as he stood up. "I'm just too broken." Turning his back on the cabin and his wounded, unconscious friend, Harper slowly began his trek into the darkness. "Just too broken."

TBC..........


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: Sorry this took so long, but real life sure can suck. Hopefully I'm back to writing on a regular basis, keep your fingers crossed. As always I love all of your feedback. They make my day! Thank you! Now, back to our regular programming...

Chapter 30

Andromeda's shimmering metallic hull rose into Tyr's view as the returning crew member expertly maneuvered the small slipfighter towards the docking bays. He finally caught up with the warship near the nebula where the whole recent waking nightmare had begun. To him, this whole area of space felt cursed.

Tyr watched as one of the hanger bay doors opened and gave birth to a large glowing, blinking sphere...it was one of the warning beacons. Seconds later, the communications light on the slipfighter's console began to blink furiously. When Tyr activated the comms, Dylan's voice boomed out over the comms channel. "By the order of the Commonwealth, this area of space is deemed deadly and off limits. Ignoring this warning will result in the loss of your ship and crew by the hostile aliens which inhabit this nebula. You have been warned." There was a pause and then the message began again.

Tyr quickly switched off the comms as he did not wish to hear Dylan's pompous voice any longer. A sneer grew on the Nietzschean's face as he rubbed his jaw which was still aching from one of their earlier bouts. He hoped Rommie had been able to talk some sense into that man in the week he was gone...or he hoped she had at least punched him a few times. The sneer transformed into a wicked smile as he pictured Dylan getting his ass kicked by the petite android.

The slipfighter glided towards the larger warship as Tyr requested permission to dock. Within minutes, the small ship rested comfortably in the womb of Andromeda's docking bay and Tyr's boots hit the metal plating of the deck below.

"Hello Tyr."

That same pompous voice Tyr shut off earlier filled his ear drums. "Dylan," Tyr growled fiercely as he glanced up at the approaching human. The Nietzschean shuddered as he suddenly felt Stolic's presence in his anger. Quickly he calmed himself down to a mild rage.

Not taking note of Tyr's aggressive stance and voice, Dylan came closer. 

Tyr's fists tighten as he spoke once more. "May I suggest you leave before I loose my control and do to you what you did to Harper."

Dylan raised his hands in a submissive poise. "Tyr, please listen." Dylan's voice as soft and gentle.

Tyr's right eyebrow rose in questioning. Did Rommie work a miracle while he was gone or was this a trick? He crossed his arms across his broad chest. "Go on."

"Tyr, first I wanted to say...I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the way I acted towards you and Harper and the rest of the crew. I was an idiot. I understand now what I didn't then. Second..." he paused as he fought to find the strength to continue on, to ask the question that had been plaguing his mind for the past six days. "Second, how is...h-he...how is Harper?" 

Tyr stood there, arms still crossed as he examined the man before him. Regret, true regret laced over Dylan's eyes as concern filled every syllable. It was looking more and more like Rommie had indeed pulled off a miracle, but he had to make sure. As Tyr stayed silent, the captain began to fidget nervously. As it looked like Dylan was ready to explode with nervous energy, Tyr took a large step towards the other man. Then another large step, then another until he was inches from Dylan's worried face.

"You mean to tell me that in a mere seven days you, Dylan Hunt, have completely changed your viewpoint? That instead of wishing death or banishment of our Mr. Harper you are now concerned with his well being? Why do I not believe any of this?" Tyr's eyes burned into Dylan.

Quickly Dylan backed up and raised his hands once more in a gesture of submission. "Please Tyr, I really am sorry. Rommie set me straight, pointed out my error in judgment. I was interpreting the situation all wrong, but I understand now. I can see where Harper was coming from, understand his thinking. You need to know how truly sorry I am for what I did to him and to you. I'm deeply ashamed of the way I acted and can only hope that you will forgive me."

Tyr was still silent when help finally appeared at Dylan's side in the form on the ship's hologram. "Tyr, he's telling the truth, we can trust him again. This is not a trick."

After a few more tense seconds of sizing up Dylan, Tyr finally voiced his opinion. "Very impressive, Ship. I did not expect this much change this fast." 

"I do my best," Holo-Rommie said with pride as she fizzled out to let the two men talk in private.

"Good sir, do you care to bring me up to date on the on goings of the good ship Andromeda?" Tyr asked with humor and forgiveness in his voice. Being able to admit wrongdoings and better one's self through the truth were actions he deeply valued. Dylan had once more showed his worth.

"Yes of course, but only if you first finally tell me how Harper was when you left him?" Dylan begged with a deep rooted sense of urgency as if knowing Harper's condition would help the situation.

"He was in bad shape physically but, like always, he will survive. That's what he does. I'm more concerned about his mental well being. He was unconscious when I handed him over to the magog. I suspect the monk has a hard job ahead of him." 'No thanks to you,' Tyr added with a small amount of bitter anger that still surprisingly hung in his mind.

Dylan looked down as his own thoughts echoed Tyr's. It took him every ounce of control not to race into the slipfighter and rush to Harper's side. To apologize, to beg for the forgiveness which he didn't deserve. But he knew that would only make matters worse. Harper had worlds of demons to fight through before he could even face Dylan. He shook the painful thoughts out of his mind as he returned his attention to Tyr. "So, you wanted updates on the excitement you missed in the past week?"

Tyr nodded.

"Well then, let's walk and talk," Dylan offered as he nodded his head towards the door.

"How are the other?" Tyr asked bluntly as they strolled down the endless maze of hallways.

"Trance is doing better. She's almost back to normal, well as normal as a previous purple turned golden warrior mystery alien can be."

Tyr smirked in reply.

"And well, you can see how I'm doing." Dylan paused as he looked down to watched his feet move over the floor. "I still can't believe what I did to him."

The corridor stood silent for a second as the two men let guilt overcome them momentarily. Tyr finally broke through the cloud of silence. "Hopefully the professor has it in him to forgive you, to forgive us all...we all hurt him." Images of a begging, bleeding, beaten Harper flashed into Tyr's mind.

Dylan swallowed down the lump in his throat and continued on. "And Beka...well Beka is still a work in progress. She's now out of her room at least and is back on duty, but there is something missing...her spark, her attitude. I think she has just repressed everything and is not dealing with it. It's not good." Dylan stopped walking and looked over at Tyr. "I was actually hoping you could talk to her, get her to vent some of her feelings before she explodes."

Tyr stood in silence as he contemplated Dylan's proposition. "I will...but not just yet. I know Beka, she's stubborn to a fault and will not be forced into healing. She will have to come to it on her own. Right now I suggest we just give her some space to work it out on her own."

"Hmmm...maybe you're right, but I'm still going to keep a close eye on her."

"As will I." 

They continued their random path down the empty corridors. Tyr's booming voice surrounded them in the void space. "Have you had any encounters with revenging Pythos yet?"

"Luckily no, but to quote Mr. Harper, I think we just get to add them to our people who hate us list."

"Wonderful, just what we need."

The two men kept walking down the corridor in silence until minutes later they split up and went their separate ways.

*****

It had been six days since Tyr's return and since then all of the warning beacons had been dropped off and activated, all of the Commonwealth's members had been notified of the Pytho/Calastors alliance and currently Andromeda and crew were heading off to Infinity Atoll for a much needed vacation.

Andromeda was proud of her crew for the way they were recovering. Tyr, Dylan and Trance were all basically back to their normal selves, minus the few time in tense moments where the ghost of their Calastor invader had reared it's ugly head. Fortunately, those moments were growing fewer and farther between as her crew were taking back their emotions. 

Unfortunately the other two crew members were not bearing as well. The spark plug of the ship was still missing, still getting help from Rev Bem from whom they hadn't heard from as of yet. The A.I.'s thoughts went out to the monk as she could only imagine what he was going through with her troubled engineer. 

The second problem was the other blonde of the crew, Beka. She was still not herself. The sarcastic comments were down 84.78%, she was barely sleeping, and when she did talk with the others there was as if something was missing, as if her words were hollow and void of life. Even Andromeda had to admit she was starting to get worried. Every time Beka was close to a breakdown, she seemed to just pause and swallow down her feelings. The A.I. knew that Beka's psyche could only take so much more before she would breakdown completely. The question was could she be put back together when it finally happened.

Suddenly Andromeda's pondering was brought to a halt as she received a message...a message from Rev. Immediately she contacted Dylan to inform him. Was it good news, bad news or something else? Worry and hope crisscrossed themselves all over her miles of circuitry. 

Five minutes later the entire crew congregated on command. Nervous fidgeting of all kinds showed themselves. Dylan paced the deck, Beka leaned against one of the consoles with her madly fidgeting hands in front of her, Trance seemed to be almost bouncing up and down, while Rommie tapped her fingers on a console and Tyr, with crossed arms, tapped his on his upper arm.

"Can we get on with this all ready?" Beka asked with a mixture of annoyance and concern.

"Um, yah, sure....Is everyone ready?" Dylan asked as he paused his pacing.

Heads everywhere nodded in agreement.

"Ok...play message."

The room fell silent as Rev's bowed furry face appeared on the large view screen. Slowly his head lifted to reveal the wound Harper had inflicted. Gasps filled command as all saw the large fresh gash on his forehead and the pained look on his face. This message could in no way be good news.

Slowly he began to speak in a low sad voice. "My dear friends, I'm sorry I have to send this message." He paused to try to clear his rough, crackly voice and to try to stop the progress of the tears fighting to flee his eyes. "Two days ago, Harper attacked me when I was trying to stop him from leaving....I f-failed." Another pause. "H-Harper is no longer in my care. I was able to track his scent to the nearby village. Apparently a few villagers saw him boarding a transport ship. I'm transmitting all the data I could access on that ship along with the message. I hope it helps you locate our lost friend. I am deeply ashamed and sorry that I failed you and Mr. Harper....again." A lone tear slid down his ridged face. "Please find it in your hearts to forgive me." He paused again to compose himself. "I must warn you of Mr. Harper's state of mind. He is still haunted by his many demons and I fear that if he is not found soon those demons might just take over." Rev bowed to the screen. "May the Devine be with you. Rev Bem out."

The view screen was now as blank as the expressions of the crew staring at it. Only seconds later did emotions began to break through the numbness of the shock. Tears rolled down a few faces while others only looked on in deep concern. How much trouble was Harper's mind in if he actually attacked Rev without provocation?

"A-A-Andromeda." Dylan struggled to talk through the silence. "H-How long ago was that message sent?"

"Five days," the saddened ship's voice replied from nowhere.

Again, more silence took over command as the images of all the trouble Harper could get into in seven days filled their minds. Dead or alive? Sane or insane? Shivers raced up all of their spines a horrible image after horrible image came into their thoughts.

Tyr's voice boomed into existence. "So, are we just going to stand here or are we going after the boy?"

Dylan shook his head as he tried to free his thoughts from the myriad of dead Harper images. "We are going after him. I don't want his trail getting any colder. Andromeda bring up all the data on that transport ship."

Coordinates for the ship's destinations filled the view screen while Dylan look on in dismay at the overwhelming number of planets and spaceports. "It's never easy....Ok guys, Harper needs us. Let's go find him and bring him home where he belongs."

TBC.........


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: Again, thanks for all the reviews...but what will I do for ego boosting when this is finally done? ;) I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 31

Harper strolled onto the occupied cockpit of the Maru. "Hi'ya Boss!" he chirped cheerfully with a goofy grin spread across his grease covered face. "Engines are fixed and ready to go thanks to the genius that is me." He cocked his head proudly and pointed his grease blackened thumb at his ego swelled chest.

Beka pushed herself out of the piloting chair in order to spin around and face the grease monkey that stood behind her. Every inch of the engineer was covered in some kind of gooey, sticky substance that flowed throughout the engines. Beka's eyes finally landed on the hyperactive human's boots. Little black footprints led up to where he was currently bobbing with unnatural energy as growing puddle of goo was accumulating at his feet. Beka felt her anger growing as Harper continued shuffling his filthy feet on her deck plating.

"So, Boss, we gonna go now or what? Come on, the waves at Infinity Atoll are calling my name...as are the voluptuous babes." He wiggled his eyebrows as a mischievous look sparkled in his eyes. "Come on, let's go! The babes...and waves...need The Harper," he begged as he continued to jump around with all the energy of an ancient Earth humming bird.

As he jumped more and more goo and grease flew off him and onto the floor below. Beka remembered watching her father meticulously install each of those deck plates as she sat in the corner playing with her favorite, and only, doll. And now those deck plates were getting destroyed by that filthy, annoying mudfoot.

"Boss?" Harper's tone was more worried now as he noticed the captain's pursed lips and narrowing eyes. His energy had suddenly been converted to nervous fidgeting. "Are you okay?"

Suddenly Beka charged Harper. "GET YOUR FILTHY MUDFOOT BOOTS OFF MY DECK!!" She grabbed his grease saturated shirt and threw him out of the cockpit's entrance.

"Beka?!" Harper yelped in surprise as he fell to the floor. A look of sheer terror flashed on his face.

The enraged captain looked down at her now blacked hands and the anger grew even stronger. 'That boy dirties everything he touches!' Quickly she stomped towards the fallen engineer who was currently shuffling away from his towering attacker on his hands and backside. A smudged trail of blackened goo followed his retreat as if he were a slug.

"Beka!? What I do wrong?" His voice was breaking as tears welled up inside, yearning to come out.

Harper continued his retreat...right into a corner. Beka stood over her cowering best friend. "You're pathetic, truly pathetic." She raced down with her hands and lifted the trembling boy up by his neck until his boots hovered about the ground. The sound of dripping grease from the shoes could barely be heard over Harper's racing heart and jagged breaths.

"B-B-Beka," he gasped out between struggling gasps for air.

"Don't you dear speak my name you useless kludge! Ya wanna know what you did wrong!? EVERYTHING!!! You made me trust you! And then you betrayed me!" She tightened her grip around his small neck with each screaming sentence.

"D-D-Don't..." Harper pleaded as his face turned redder and redder.

"SHUT UP!!" Beka suddenly dropped him.

Harper landed in a crouching position as he gasped for sweet oxygen, unfortunately his reprieve was short lived. 

"JUST SHUT UP!" Beka's boot made contact with his nose, then his mouth, then head, then eye, then ribs and so on...all the while as she screamed at him to shut up.

Finally she stopped to catch her breath as below her laid a motionless bruised and bleeding lump of flesh and bone. The lump made a murmur. "B-Beka...w-w-why?..."

"SHUT UP YOU EGO WHORE!" She yelled as she delivered the fatal kick to his throat. 

Only sick gurgling sounds originated from Harper's twitching battered body. 

Then silence and stillness.

Beka stared down at the motionless lump of flesh that laid at her bloody feet.

Then it happened....

The pile of broken bones began to move. It slowly rose from the floor as it took the gruesome form of zombie Harper. Bones protruding from flesh, blonde hair turned crimson red, eyes empty and haunting. Those eyes, those dark tortured eyes grew larger and larger, engulfing Beka in their pain and loneliness. Soon all she could see was black, all she could feel was the anguish she caused....she caused....

"AGH!" Beka bolted from bed gasping for air as her eyes tried to escape from their sockets. Her chest continued to heave as her scream of terror still echoed in her ears. "No...no.." she muttered as she brought her trembling knees up to her heaving chest. "N-N-No..." Behind her clenched closed eyes, weeks of unshed tears began to pile up. In her throat, a lump grew and grew until finally it broke...until finally Beka broke.

Unrestrained sobs wrenched her body as she curled up closer to her comforter hoping it would do as it's name implied. But all the soft bed covering did was to soak up the river of tears that finally flowed freely from her eyes.

Alone in her darkened room, Beka Valentine wept. She wept for herself, for her friends and especially for her missing adopted brother. Guilt, the pain of betrayal, anger, fear, all of the thousands of emotions she had bottle up were finally set free.

For hours she wept alone, curled up in the comforter, finally willing to give up enough control to begin her reentry to the real world.

******

Beka's legs hurriedly brushed past each other as she raced down the empty corridors. Dylan had just called a meeting in the conference room. Beka's fingers fidgeted madly with each other. He said he had news about Harper. Her teeth tugged at her soft lips.

Six weeks. It had been six weeks since they had received the news of Harper's troubling disappearance. Six weeks of endless worrying, of searching, of finding nothing but bad news after bad news.

After weeks of searching the numerous drifts and planets that were on the suspected cargo ship's schedule itinerary, they had finally found a lead on their missing engineer. Unfortunately, it was only the first link in a long chain of horrible discoveries...

"Oh yah, I remember that drunken runt. He trashed my bar with a couple of angry Nietzscheans. Feisty little feller. Ended up throwing 'em out to continue their 'argument' in the street.....hey, ya wouldn't by any chance have any money to pay for his damages?"

"Seamus Z. Harper? Um, let me check our records....Yah, we arrested him...let's see...for...um...disorderly conduct. Street fight with some local humans. Says here he served his seven day sentence and was released. If my memory serves me, he was in withdrawal pretty bad. He probably went to find his next hit when he left. Good luck finding him."

"Why are you looking for that druggie lush? Waste of time I'd say. By the looks of him I'd suspect he's lying dead in some gutter by now. Good riddance."

As Beka rubbed her still healing bruised fist, she quickened her pace. Dylan's voice had sounded so empty, as if he was afraid to let any emotion through....what had he found out this time?

The strain of the hopeless searching had been hard on the recovering crew, but in a way, the stress was helping to bring them back together. Many nights, into the late hours, the girls could be found in the Maru just talking and sharing memories of the many times Harper had propositioned them. They were finding comfort in just being in each other's presence. As soft voices escaped the open door of the Maru, the echoes of a bouncing basketball and squeaks of sneakers could be heard radiating down the empty darkened corridors. Tyr and Dylan had begun a tournament of insomniacs. So far they were tied.

The one place that stayed empty and quite was Machine Shop 17. No one could bear to enter the now lifeless space. Harper's colorful shirts laid crumpled where he last left them and empty crushed Sparky cans still littered the floor. It was as if Harper's presence haunted the once vibrant room. Everyone who walked by the sealed closed door would have visions of Harper's new life...of his dead eyes staring up at them from some gutter or of him ramming a contaminated needle into his veins or of his bloody, bruised face begging for help as a group of Nietzscheans beat him to within inches of his life.

Breaking into a run, Beka sprinted past the haunted space as she continued on her way towards the conference room. The image of bone blades cutting into Harper's neck flashed into her mind. She gulped down the lump that appeared in her throat. "You have to be okay, Seamus, you just have to," she whispered to herself as she ran ahead, leaving his haunting presence behind.

After what seemed like a race through the never-ending corridors, she reached the meeting room. The door hissed open to revel four sets of eyes greeting her with matching worried looks...but one of those sets held a much deeper sense of worry. 

Beka's heart stopped and legs went weak as she saw Dylan's face. Pale and drawn, his eyes held a horrible secret that was eating him alive. On wobbly legs, Beka made her way over to the empty chair next to Dylan. 

All eyes snuck quick sadden glances at the one unoccupied chair.

Dylan's loud purposeful intake of oxygen attracted all the wandering eyes onto him. "We all know why I call everyone here. I have news on Harper." He looked down and swallowed hard. "As you know, the last lead pointed us to Hanioa Drift. I went ahead and sent a preliminary message asking for any information they might have." He paused. "I just received a message back from them an hour ago."

The sound of a nanobot hitting the deck could be heard in the breathless room.

The brave High Guard captain looked down at the table as if somewhere on it's shiny surface it concealed the strength to continue...to tell his adopted family what he had just learned. Taking one last deep breath, he rose his head and made eye contact with each one of his crew.

"We've finally found him. Harper is currently sitting in one of Hanioa Drift's jail cells serving a ten year sentence for murder."

TBC.......


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: Thanks again for all the feedback...I love you guys, ya make my week. {{{{{everyone}}}}}

Now here's a nice long update. Enjoy it while you can cause the end is near!! 

Chapter 32

Dylan could feel the shocked eyes burning into him as he looked down trying desperately to hide from the unrelenting stares. The room was still shrouded in silence as the information he had just provided hasty navigated its way through the crew's maze-like synapses.

Apparently, Beka's brain worked the fastest. "We're going to get him out of there, right!? I mean, you have a plan...right?" Panic and uncertainty drove her voice.

What he had to say next sent wave after wave of anguish through his already shattered heart. "No," Dylan answered in a sad whisper. 

"WHAT!!?" Beka screeched as she channeled the other's reactions through her voice.

Dylan hated his job. "Hanioa Drift...it's under the control of the Sabra-Jaguar pride." His fists tightened until small droplets of blood emerged from his callused palms. "If we break him out, the Sabra-Jaguars would pull out of the Commonwealth and if we break the laws just because he's our family then the new order, the Commonwealth, means nothing." Damn, how he hated having to be righteous all the time. The small droplets of blood now rolled quietly onto the tabletop which lied under his clenched fist.

"But-But..." Trance's voice was faint and innocent reminding everyone of the girl she once was. "H-Harper...he's innocent...right? We can't just leave an innocent man in jail." Tears haunted her tone as she looked towards Dylan for hope.

There was a pause before Tyr voiced all of their worst fears. "The little professor really did it...didn't he?" 

"Yes." Dylan sounded broken. "There were twenty witnesses, the murder was caught on surveillance cameras, and..." he paused. "Harper pleaded guilty." Dylan looked down once more, unable to watch the pain in his crew's eyes. It was the same pain he had experienced only an hour earlier. Then, and still now, he had hoped it was all some misunderstanding, like all the other murders he and his crew had been charged for in the past, but this one was different. When Dylan heard Harper's confession, when he saw the video, he knew Harper had crossed over. The Earther's eyes were bloodshot and empty, his voice held no emotion, no sign of remorse. Harper was just the shell of the man he once knew. 

Dylan pounded his bleeding fist on the table as he cursed himself for not seeing the truth earlier. Maybe, if he was smarter, he could have stopped this before it got this far. Maybe that empty chair that stared at him with such hatred would be occupied by his smiling, wise cracking engineer....just maybe.

Beka cut short Dylan's wallowing. "NO!! I refuse to believe he killed someone in cold blood!" The blonde emphasized her point by rocketing out of her chair and planting her hands firmly on the table.

"It was a drug deal gone bad, Beka," Dylan tried to explain through his own pain. "The dealer wouldn't give Harper the drugs he paid for and Harper attacked him. It ended with two of the dealer's thuds in critical condition and the dealer himself quite dead." Dylan could sense the question that was on everyone's mind. "And before you ask, trust me, you don't want to know how he died." The battle-hardened High Guard captain's stomach did somersaults as he remembered the surveillance video.

The room fell silent once more as Beka paced the length of the table and Trance studied her fidgeting fingers. Rommie and Tyr, as always, remained stoic.

"Ok, fine, he did it," Beka gave in. "But, we cannot leave him in jail for ten years! We pushed him away, we caused him to be in the situation he's in now and it's our responsibility to get him out! So I say screw the Commonwealth! Harper is more important!"

"Beka..." Dylan started as tears began to choke his voice. Rommie was kind enough to take over as her captain sunk down in his chair, only able to look at his bloodied hands.

"Beka, calm down. We all want Harper out of there and back with us, but we have to try the official channels. We can't just go all renegade and break him out by force. If we did, everything we fought for, everything Harper fought for, would be meaningless." Rommie was now at Beka's side comforting her.

"Rommie's right," Dylan chimed in as he finished composing himself. "Look, we are only days away from the drift. Once we get there, I'll pull out all the Dylan charm I can and get him released. I promise." He really hoped he could keep that promise.

"And if that does not work, I'll try my Tyr charm," the intimidating Nietzschean smirked.

A few forced smiles lit up the room before Beka's stern voice broke the light moment. "Fine, I'll wait...but I'm not leaving there without my Seamus."

As the crew began exiting the conference room, Dylan heard a faint whisper exit Trance's mouth. "If he is still 'your' Seamus," Her tone was all too knowing and sent a cold chill down Dylan's back.

***********

Two and a half days later, the massive shimmering ship that was Andromeda docked with the downtrodden, scruffy looking Hanioa Drift. The two interlocking objects could not have been more different. One held hope, light, and life, while the other held despair, darkness and living deaths.

As Rommie stayed onboard to keep an eye on herself, the others went to meet up with their imprisoned crewmember.

Beka fidgeted madly as they walked though the crowded, dimly lit, fowl smelling streets on the drift. In every dark corner a body could be seen huddled up, trying to hid from the cruelty that is life. Beka's feet constantly kicked empty broken bottles that once held sweet escape for some poor soul. She imagined Harper's mouth embracing the smooth lip of the bottles as he tried to drown away the pain she had caused him.

Sensing all the anguish and sorrow that filled the drift, Trance could only look to her perfect possible future for comfort. So many lost and hurt souls screaming for help, for an ounce of serenity, for any relief from their pain. A small glowing tear fell from her mysterious eye as she wept for the universe.

The only one not touched by the despair that surrounded them was Tyr. He was too busy grasping his massive gun and constantly scanning the writhing movement of the crowd for anything that could threaten his survival.

Dylan on the other hand was only concerned with his first officer who walked beside him. He watched her eyeing the syringe that her boot had just kicked and could easily imagine what was going through her mind because the same thought was racing through his...'Had Harper used that syringe?' He placed a comforting hand on her arm trying to reassure both himself and her that everything would be okay.

Feeling the weight on her arm, Beka replied by touching his hand and turning her head up to face her friend. Using all her inner strength, she was able to give him a weak, nervous half smile.

"We're almost there Beka. It's just around this corner," Dylan answered back with his own fake smile.

As they rounded the corner, a thought raced into Beka's already panicked mind. 'If the 'civilized' parts of the drift are this bad, what will the prison be like?' Her heart rate doubled and her palms grew clammier as they finally saw the prison entrance.

A pair of large, blackened metal doors hid in an alcove between two rowdy bars. The only way one would know that this was the drift's prison was by the complete lack of locks on the door. Anyone was welcomed to enter, but only a few were welcomed to leave.

Dylan stepped up and pulled one of the doors open. The interior was just as dim, if not dimmer, than the rest of the drift. The rest of the crew followed him into the small narrow walkway. The door creaked closed behind them. 

To their sides were solid metal walls that rose up to meet with the low ceiling. In front of them was another depressing door that stood between them and Harper.

"Hello?" Dylan questioned in the echo inducing space.

"Whatch'ya want?" A gruff deep voice answered back from ahead of them.

Tentatively walking forward, they could now see where the voice originated from. Perpendicular to the door was a small rectangular window that was filled with thick metal bars. 

Barely able to make out the person that resided behind the bars, Dylan answered back. "It's Captain Dylan Hunt of the Commonwealth. I contacted the Warden earlier. We're here to see a prisoner...Seamus Harper."

Beka cringed at the words Dylan had to use to describe Harper.

"Oh right. Place your weapons in the compartment next to you." A panel on the wall hissed open revealing a large empty space. The crew did as ordered and gave up their weapons...well, their visible weapons. "Follow me." The guard sighed as if talking was too much of a bother. 

A second later, the door before them clicked and then creaked open. Behind it stood the mystery guard. Tall and middle aged, he eyed the visitors with great disdain as if even looking at them was a waste of his precious genes. His long pulled back black hair was a perfect match for his dull black leather outfit, but all eyes landed on his belt and what hung from it. A large bloodied cat-o-nine whip swung from his hip as he began walking down the long hallway that had hid behind the door. "Are you coming or not?" he asked with all the enthusiasm of a dead man.

Beka gave Dylan the look of death as they began to follow the guard. Even without telepathy, Dylan knew what Beka was telling him. He had to get Harper out of here or else. He couldn't agree more.

As they began walking down the cramped walkway, Beka suddenly realized what were lining the walls. Cells. Columns of three tiny square cells stacked on top of one another all the way from the floor to the ceiling. Only three feet tall, wide and long. Just enough room for a person to crouch and lay down if they did so diagonally across the cell. Beka felt tears threatening her eyes as she imagined Harper in one of those filthy, tiny cells. Desperately she looked down the dim corridor hoping to see larger cells, but only more and more rows of the tiny cages could be seen.

Then Beka began to notice the occupants of the cells. A few were curled up rocking in the far corners, a few were muttering phrases of insanity, and a few rushed the front of their confined homes, reaching their desperate hands out, screaming for help or revenge. 

As a hand reached out for Trance, Tyr surprisingly pulled her into himself and violently slapped away the encroaching, filthy arm. "Stay close," he whispered to the overwhelmed golden alien.

Up ahead of Tyr and Trance walked Dylan and Beka. As Dylan took in the travesty that was Hanioa Drift's idea of a prison, all he could do from yelling out in anger was to bite his lip until it bled. If he was to stand any chance of getting Harper released, he would have to watch every word that came out of his mouth.

As they continued walking farther into the maze of cells, Beka began to realize what they were walking on. It wasn't just the normal grated flooring that lined many a starships and drifts' floor...there was something below the grated panels...more cells. More tiny hellish cells that got a wonderful view of the guard's soles. She notice one inmate cowering below them, trying to hid from the storm of dirt that came from the group's boots. Before Beka could even take in the horrible image, the guard interrupted the silent tour.

"Ok, here ya go," the guard said as he suddenly stopped his lethargic striding.

Everyone was looking around at the empty cells on the walls, desperately looking for their lost friend. All eyes came up empty.

The guard sighed at their ineptitude. "Down there, idiots." His thick finger pointed at the floor.

The crew's eyes dropped to the floor...they had finally found their lost Harper.

Or had they.

Below them sat a man, legs pulled tightly to his chest, head hung down into his knees, and his slight body was wracked with constant small tremors. 'Could it be?' Beka gasped as she dropped to the floor to get a better look at the poor soul below. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the grated floor as she half hoped it was him and half hoped it was a horrible mistake.

The man didn't even respond to his visitors. He just sat there with his bare feet crossed over each other as if trying to find comfort in his own touch. Filthy, disgusting rags covered his noodle thin body. Beka was still unsure if it was him. She eyed his hair hoping for a sign, but it hung limply over his hidden face, not a spike to be seen. The blonde was also gone, covered up by weeks of grime. Then she gasped...it was him. The tell tale sign of the dataport glimmered on his neck. It was even still swollen from the electrical charge that had started this whole hellish ordeal.

"Seamus..." Beka whispered trying to reach out to her brother through the impenetrable grate.

Dylan and Trance dropped to their knees to join Beka, while Tyr remained standing. The weary Nietzschean simply eyed the indifferent guard who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in boredom.

"Seamus?" Beka tried again, but still there was no reaction from the figure below. The only movement were the slight tremors. 

"Harper...We're...I'm sorry," Dylan tried his luck. "I'm sorry for what I did and said to you." Still no response. "Harper?"

"Come on Harper, talk to us," Trance begged as her hands tighten on the medical bag she desperately wanted to use.

A strong seizure shook Harper's body.

Jumping up, Dylan charged the guard with Tyr right at his side. "LET US DOWN THERE NOW!!"

"No," the guard spat out still barely caring. "Even if I wanted to, which trust me, I don't, only the warden has the authority to open cells."

"Then take us to the warden!" Dylan ordered.

"Whatever...this way." The guard pushed the two visitors off him and began strolling down the corridor again.

"Girls, stay here with Harper. We'll be back shortly," Dylan informed them over his shoulder as both he and Tyr began to follow the annoying guard. "And don't try anything...please"

Beka's grip tighten on the grate as she continued to curse the promise she had made. Every inch of her being wanted to rip up the grated door to Harper's cell, jump down, scoop him up in her comforting arms and race out of this dark, depressing hell hole. Oh yes, and afterwards blow the whole place to smithereens, including that guard. But no, she had made a promise.

As Beka was wracked with inner turmoil, Trance had continued to try to reach the still seizing boy below. "Harper, hang on. We'll be down there in a minute." As Trance's sweet voice filled the small space, Harper's seizures began to ease up. Soon, he was back to his normal slight tremors. "Please say something..." Trance begged.

Harper responded by pulling his legs closer to his body.

Finally regaining control, Beka tried once more to reach her Shorty. "Seamus, we are not leaving here without you. We've been desperately searching for you for weeks on end." A tear slid down her face and fell into the cell below her. That fallen tear was the closest she could get to him. "Please talk to us."

Still no response. Minutes of futile begging later, multiple heavy footsteps could be heard approaching their location. Dylan, Tyr, the guard and another large Nietzschean walked towards the seated girls. The new man had quite a scowl on his hardened face as Beka could only imagine what Dylan had said to him.

As they reached the cell, the warden pulled out a small silver device and punched in a few commands on the unit. Both him and the guard pulled out their guns and stood ready. A second later the grating Beka and Trance were sitting on made a clicking sound. The girls managed to jump off of it just in time for it to open outward and expose the small crevice below.

"There you go Captain Hunt. Happy now?" Sarcasm and anger dripped off of every one of the warden's words. His dark, almost black eyes, glared down with disgust at the human trash that occupied the cell.

"Trance, go down there and check on his health," Dylan ordered knowing the abuse Harper's body must have endured over the last few months...and well aware that he was the source of some of it.

Looking nervously at the others, Trance took a deep breath before she dropped down into the three foot tall cell below. Crouching down, she made her way over to the huddled being that occupied the tiny space. "Harper, it's me, Trance." She reached her golden hand out towards the fowl smelling human. "I just want to look you over." Trance had to fight hard not to totally break down. This was not their Harper that was curled up before her...this was a stranger.

Slowly she brought her hand to his arms which were tightly wrapped around his legs. Immediately she noticed fresh cuts running up and down his arms and hands. Cuts that only a whip could produce. Trying to be as gentle to his abused arms as possible, she finally made contact. Unfortunately the second her hand touched his cold, clammy skin, he violently pulled away as he tried to push himself father into the corner, seemingly hoping the filthy walls would swallow him whole.

"Shh--It's ok Harper. I'm not going to hurt you." Trance said with sorrow as she remembered the last time she had held his arm in her hands. The feeling of his bones crumbling under her strength still haunted her. Gently, she tried again to reach out to Harper, but all she got was the same response.

"Hurry up. Visitor hours are over soon," the gruff warden's voice boomed down into the small space.

Ignoring the harsh voice, Trance continued her care of Harper. "I'm just going to inject you with some general nanobots and some nutrient supplements." Trance pulled out one of the large syringes from her bag. She looked back at her friend. This whole time she still hadn't seen his face. His head constantly hung low and his limp longer hair hung down covering any chance of seeing his features. Sighing, she brought up the syringe. "This might sting a bit, but it should make you feel much better." Carefully she made contact with his wrist, but this time she would not let him jerk it away from her grasp. "Shh--It will be ok. Hold still." Finally Harper did as he was told and held as still as he could with the small tremors that were still wracking his body. Looking at the underside of his bare arm, Trance finally realized why he was trembling so. He was still in withdrawal. Every viable area on his skin was covered in track marks. "Oh Harper.." she mistakenly whispered as his head dropped even farther. Noting her mistake, Trance returned to the job at hand. With some struggle she found a good vein and injected the healing cocktail into his system. As the last drop left the syringe, she pulled out the needle and let his ragged sleeve cover up his scars of pain.

"There, all done. See, that wasn't too bad." She forced a smile onto her lips as she hoped he would finally show his face, but all she saw was more dirty hair. Oh, how she yearned to just embrace him in a giant hug, to scream out that she loved him and that she never wanted to lose him again...but all she could do was to sit only inches away from his broken body and pray that he would at least speak or show her his precious face.

"Come on, let's go golden freak," the voice boomed down again.

"Harper, we have to leave now, but we will be back tomorrow morning, okay?" She paused hoping for an answer that would never come. Instead he just tighten his grip on his legs. Sighing, Trance continued, "Ok, I understand. But no matter how much you push us away, we will come back. We will always come back. You saved us, now it's our turn to save you."

The golden warrior gathered up her medical supplies and crawled back to the opening overhead. Looking up at her friends, she saw tears brimming in all of their eyes as they had seen and heard all of her interactions with Harper. She even had to do a double take at Tyr. She could have sworn his eyes were glazed over too.

Dylan reached down to help Trance out of the shallow hole. As soon as she was back in the walkway, the warden quickly pressed some buttons on his precious device to close and seal the hatch. Before the hatch had even sealed completely, the warden had turned his back on the visitors and was heading back to his office to finish watching his porn.

"Come," the guard ordered as he too turned his back on the crew and began to lead them back the way they came.

Dylan and Tyr walked behind the guard giving only brief glances back to the hell they had just witnessed. Behind them walked the girls. Beka had gently grasped Trance's trembling arm as the golden alien's legs threatened to give out on her. They both gave a fleeting glance back to the floor that held their most prized possession.

"We will get our Harper back, Trace. We have to." Beka whispered into to Trance's ear as the two leaned on each other for support as they left Harper behind once more.

Back in the dank, dim hole of a cell, Seamus Harper pulled his legs closer to him hoping to shove his kneecaps through his aching heart. He desperately bit at his chapped dry lips in order to hold in the building torrent of tears that threaten to come rushing out.

He was being torn in two. Half of him wanted to scream out for his friends to come back, to beg them for forgiveness, and to have fallen into the safety of Trance's arms when he had the chance. But the stronger, overpowering half thought differently. That half never wanted to see them again, it wanted to rot and die in this tiny space for the monstrosities he had committed, and it had expected Trance to crush his wrist when she had held it.

He hugged his legs tightly and clenched his eyes closed unable to contain the torrent any longer. Tears slid down his dirt covered and shallow face as he began his nightly routine of rhythmic rocking. Each night he hoped he would find comfort in the movement, but each night all he found were nightmares and agonized sleeplessness.

TBC....


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: Thanks for the reviews and sorry for the wait. Now back to the story....

Chapter 33

As the drift shop's doors began to show signs of life, the four crew members were already treading down the awaking streets.

"Are you sure you can get him out?" Beka looked next to her at Dylan. Trance and Rommie were following up in the rear and Tyr had stayed behind to man the ship.

"Let's just say I will do all that's in my power to get Harper out of that hell hole." He paused with a sigh. "This is all my fault, isn't it? I mean if I had just understood earlier, if I hadn't been so dense, so pig headed, than Harper wouldn't be in there. Some captain I am."

Silently Beka agreed with him and couldn't find the words to comfort her guilt-laden friend. This is where having an eavesdropping android comes in handy. A soft cool hand fell onto Dylan's shoulder. "Dylan, you have to stop blaming yourself. You thought Harper was out to hurt us all. Your actions were understandable under those pretenses. What's done is done, all we can do now is to try to help him." 

Trance now stepped up besides Dylan. "And plus, even if you did understand from the beginning, Harper still could have easily ended up in this situation. He could have ran away from Andromeda as easily as he ran away from Rev. It was not only your actions that caused him such pains." Trance said that last sentence with a heavy heart.

Releasing a large sigh, Dylan tried to let go some of his guilt. "Ok, I guess I really should concentrate on what I'm going to say in the negotiations...'Please let our psychotic murdering engineer go free. We realize he brutally murdered a drug dealer, but hey, that's one less piece of scum for your lovely prison system.'...yah, that will go over great." His hand went to the bridge of his nose as he tried to massage out some of the building stress. As many times as he tried it, the massage never seemed to help. 

The group neared a large building and Beka spoke out. "Well, whatever you decide to say, now's the time." They all stopped in their tracks and admired the only non-graffitied surfaces on the drift...the drift's government building. The bronzed walls shimmered even under the faint light, almost acting as it's own source of illumination.

"Great," Dylan sighed. "Oh, Beka, before I forget. The deal that got us into Harper's cell the other day won't work today...or any other day. And before you even say anything, I know, it sucks. Just do what you can for him through that stupid grating." Taking a deep breath to bury his guilt, frustration and fears, he took one large step towards the impressive building. "Let's go Rommie. Wish us luck." 'We'll need it,' he added to himself. 

"Good luck," both women whispered under their breaths as they watched Dylan and Rommie disappear into the shinny clean interior of the drift's government building.

Trance and Beka walked the rest of the way to the prison in complete silence as they each were consumed by their own nightmares of what awaited them. 

After weaving their way through the drunks stumbling out of the bars on their way home for the "night" and dodging all the men, and women, who mistaken them for hookers, the two women finally made it to the depressing doors to the prison.

"Ready?" Trance asked knowing full well of the battle they had ahead of them.

"As much as I'll ever be. Let's go get our shorty back."

With as much determinations as they could muster, they entered the mouth of the hellish prison and were led to Harper's living nightmare.

"H'ya Harper!" Trance announced in her fake cheerful voice as she and Beka made themselves as comfortable as one can on hard metal filthy floors.

Beka looked down at her lost little brother only to see that he hadn't moved an inch since last night. His head still hung low and his knees still were drawn tightly into his chest. The tremors that wracked his body earlier seemed to have died down some. 'That's a start I guess,' she thought as she tried the foreign idea of being optimistic...it wasn't working. "Hey shorty. See, we came back." She paused hoping for any response, but all she got was more silence. "I hope you want company today 'cause we ain't leaving until they throw us out."

"We even brought lunch...see." Trance pulled out a bag of warm, fresh food. "Are you hungry? Do you want anything? A Sparky?" She waved a can over the grate.

Still no response.

"Come on Seamus. Are you just going to ignore us all day?" Beka's heart was shattering as she looked down on the non-responsive Harper below. She could only keep up this fake-happy-nothing-is-wrong routine for only so much longer. A lump was already beginning to form in her throat.

Trance stepped in as Beka shoved the lump down. "Are you feeling better today? Did the medicine I gave you help any?"

Nothing.

The lump rose back up and was joined by it's sister in Trance's throat.

"Please Harper, just say something, or move, or look up, or hit on us...anything...please." Beka was quickly losing the battle with the rising lump.

The huddled figure below finally responded by dropping his head lower. 

"Argh!" The lump beat Beka into submission. "Damn it Seamus! We need you! You don't get the luxury of shutting down! You saved us! You don't then get to leave us! Say something!" She screamed as tears raced down her face and fell on her fingers that tightly griped the barrier that separated them. "TALK!! THAT'S AN ORDER!" 

Silence...then a faint whisper. "Go away." It was Harper's voice, only much deeper, lower and very much dead.

"No." Both women answered in unison.

"Leave me alone, just go away." Harper prayed that they would listen to him. That they would just get up and leave him to his accepted fate. He prayed for once the universe would let him have his way...of course he knew he was never that lucky.

Beka's gentle voice filled his cell. "No matter what you say, we will not leave you. Ever. Do you understand that shorty?"

No, he really didn't. Why would they want him back? He tortured them, attacked Rev, and killed a human in cold blood. He was a druggie, a lush, a loser...a murderer. Why did they come back? Why would they want him back?

"Seamus? Well, do you understand?"

He couldn't answer. All he could do was to stare at his bare knees that peeked out of the large holes in his filthy pants.

"I'll take that as a no." Beka sighed as she wiped away her tears. "I guess we will just have to prove it to you then. I know my Seamus is still in there somewhere and we are here to rescue him."

'Ha!' Harper laughed to himself. 'Good luck.' Seamus was long gone, locked away huddling in some dark corner of his mind.

"Well Trance, I guess we are just gonna be sitting here all day."

"Yep, looks that way."

"Sport, when you are ready to talk we'll be right here, okay." Beka stated knowing that asking would be pointless.

"Please. Just...leave...me...alone!" Harper almost yelled through gritted teeth.

"No," they both answered back in harmony.

Harper heard the women's backs rest against the rusty metal bars of the cells above him. 'Please just go, leave me to die, why won't they go?' He questioned his confused mind.

Hours passed in udder silence as all three sat and waited for the other to break. A tense stillness overtook the otherwise empty cell block until a faint rumble echoed in the air breaking the silence. 

Beka blushed. "Sorry. Hey Trance, hand me the food, will ya?"

"Sure," Trance replied cheerful which made Harper think for a second that it was his beloved purple Trance that sat above him.

Rustling could be heard over Harper's head and then the sweet scent of fresh warm food wafted down into his cell. He stomach screamed "NO" the second it got a whiff of the food and a wave of pain radiated through his body.

"Harper, do you want any?" Beka asked through a mouthful of the sweet, delicious veggie filled dumplings.

Harper kept his tearing eyes locked onto his bare knees as he tried desperately to control his gag reflex. But no matter how hard he fought, his stomach managed to reach up his sore throat to send a stream of bile over his tongue. Lurching over quickly, he let the dry heaves overtake him as a small puddle of fowl smelling vicious liquid slowly grew on the filthy metal floor.

"Seamus!" Beka screamed as she and Trance both realized something was wrong. Their bodies were begging for access through the barrier that only their line of sight could pass. "Are you ok? What is...it..." A pause of realization. "Oh, my! Trance, put the food back in the bag!"

Over the sound of his heaving, Harper could hear frantic rustling of the food containers and the bag. Soon the overwhelming sweet aromas faded leaving only the acidic smell of his bile and urine. 'Mmm, yummy,' he thought.

"Oh Seamus, I'm so sorry! I-I didn't....realize.." Harper heard sobs choking off his sweet Beka's voice. Was there nothing he could do that wouldn't cause them pain? As self pity and hatred threatened to overtake him once more, somewhere deep inside him a small bubble of courage and honor rose up from the darkness. 'If I have to cause them more pain, then I should at least be able to face them.' Taking a deep trembling breath, he pushed his weak body off the floor. His torso slowly rose as his filthy bare souls of his feet made contact with the cold floor. A shaky hand reached up to the grate to steady his wavering body. 

"B-Beka...I-I'm sorry." The low weak voice rose from the hole of the cell and filled the void above. Only empty cells and a dingy ceiling stared back at him.

A duel gasp answered back followed by Beka's beautiful face jumping into his view as she stared down at him. Trance's marvelous face followed. Huge grins lit up both of their teary eyes faces.

"Seamus!" Beka cried out in joy. To see any movement in the boy was a miracle.

"I-I'm sorry." His voice was horse from lack of use and his eyes were only interested in their foreheads.

"Shh, no Seamus. You have nothing to be sorry for." Her hand twitched on the grating as it yearned to reach out and touch his fingers that were wrapped around the metal. She was only inches from her Seamus and yet he seemed light years away.

His blue dead eyes hid behind his dropped lids. "I hurt you...I left...you...on that...table...to-to...die." He swallowed hard. "Go, please...just go." His will left him just as his legs gave out and he fell back to the darkness of the depressed cell. "I don't want to hurt either one of you anymore." He croaked out in little more than a whisper as he crawled back to his darkened corner.

A weather system moved over his cell as it started to rain tears.

"God, S-Seamus..." Sobs cut off Beka's voice until the sounds of her fleeing boots on the metal floor cut off her sobs. Trance's lighter steps were heard racing after Beka.

"Good...go," Harper whispered to himself as he resumed hugging his legs.

********

"Beka!! Wait!" Trance called out right as Beka descended into nothing but sobs and collapsed to the floor of the next cell block. The few prisoners that were nearby quickly scurried to the fronts of their cages to watch the unfolding soap opera.

Trance raced to Beka's side and gathered the crumbling captain in her arms.

"I-I can't do this Trance...I just can't. Did you see his face? His eyes?" Sobs threatened to overcome her every word. "Those eyes will haunt me forever. And what is that idiot doing?! He's apologizing!" Beka's tear-soaked face looked up to Trance's mirrored face. "We should be the ones apologizing! US!! Not him!" Her head fell again as her eyes closed tightly hoping to stop the torrent of tears that wouldn't stop pouring out.

In the darkness behind her lids all she could see was Harper's haunting face staring up at her. The hard edge shadows of his sunken cheeks, those dark endless circles that lived under his aged eyes. And those eyes...such eyes should never grace any face - any living face that is. So much pain, guilt and loneliness filled those orbs and yet somehow nothingness managed to show itself as well. They were so empty, almost like the eyes of a corpse.

Beka wanted that face to go away and be replaced by that vivid, cocky face that lit up a room upon entrance. Yet, a part of her didn't feel she deserved the latter face. She had helped to make the empty soul that occupied Harper's body and she didn't deserve one minute of redemption. 

"Beka?" Trance's voice broke though the darkness of the ghostly eyes that held Beka in her mind. "Beka, we have to go back to him. We have to be strong." Trance's warm tears fell onto the side of Beka's face and rolled down until they merged with Beka's own tears. "We have to stick together. Together we can still save him. He needs us and we need him." 

Beka silently nodded as she wiped away the river of tears. Trance stood up first and offered Beka a trembling golden hand. Accepting with a likewise trembling hand, Beka was pulled upward off the cold floor.

"Be strong... I can do that." Bravado filled Beka's voice as she continued wiping away the signs of her breakdown.

"Yes, strong," Trance mirrored as she too fixed herself up.

Beka took a hesitant step forward before she stopped. "Um, how do you think we should approach this?" She had never saved Harper from all of his demons at once and especially not these new monstrous demons that she had helped to build.

A blank look washed over Trance's golden face.

"Just great," Beka swore as she started back down the depressing hallway towards her shorty. "Wing it like normal huh? Because that always works so well."

After they had left the cell block, the meager audience of prisoners groaned as their entertainment for the year had just walked away. 

*******

'Alone again,' Harper thought as he traced a cut on his bare knee. As his dirty finger ran over the wound, a stinging sensation cursed through his skin. Pain was all he could remember feeling and now he was even beginning to find normalcy in it.

The sound of footsteps woke him from his cut tracing. They were coming closer, and closer...then silence. Looking up he was greeted by what some might think was the most beautiful view in the known galaxies. Beka Valentine's and Trance Gemini's gorgeous glowing faces were looking down towards him. Their expressions ones of determination and love, but all Harper could see were their reddened, teary eyes that held such grief and heartache. 'Great, way to go Seamus. Make them cry...you useless piece of shit.' He dropped his head once more as the women above dropped back down to the floor.

"Harper." It was Beka. "Harper, I'm sorry I lost it...It's just...well... you shouldn't be the one apologizing. You did nothing wrong. We should be apologizing." Her eyes closed tightly as she futilely tried to keep her emotions in check. "God Harper, what we did to you...what I said to you..." Tears snatched her voice from her.

Trance tagged in. "What she's trying to say is that we are all wracked with guilt over what WE did to YOU. We don't hate you for what you did. We know you always had our best interests in mind. Hell, you almost overdosed to save us. Never, ever apologize for what you did." She paused. "We just want you back. We need you back. Can you understand that?"

Her question hung over Harper's head like a fifty ton brick.

"No." Harper whispered out as he still kept his face shrouded in darkness. "Trance...Beka...y-you have to leave me. I-I just cause pain and death to everyone around me...you guys, my parents, Hohne, all my cousins...Rev. I'm death, I'm pain, I'm a freak'n monster. I don't deserve you...I don't deserve anything but this cell and a long painful death. J-Just leave me...save yourselves...just go." His last words escaped only as weak whispers as his dirty bare foot searched for comfort in contact with it's partner. "Just go."

A loud bang of flesh on metal directly above him made his heart skip a beat. "DAMN IT SEAMUS!!" Beka yelled with her face only inched above the barrier. "You're a freak'n genius!! Why can't you understand this simple concept! You good, we love you, we want you back. Simple enough!?" Timidly, the huddling man below peeked his head out of the darkness and looked upward. Beka's angry watery eyes answered back. "Yes! Look at me! Do you see me? I'm still here! Not hurt, not dead. I've been closer to you than anyone else for almost eight years!! Eight years!! And I'm still here! Yes, you did torture me, but think of what would have happened if you didn't. Think of what would have happened to all of us. We'd be prisoners locked in our own bodies, not even able to blink as we would slowly watched out lives slip by as we go insane. You, Seamus Zealanzy Harper, saved us from that! From a lifetime of pain or possible death. You are not at monster. You are a hero!"

The words slowly invaded his mind and created a storm of conflicting emotions. "B-But..." He tried to speak through the chaos.

"No 'But's' Seamus. You are a hero. You saved us twice against insurmountable odds both times risking your own life...almost dieing. You, the hero, saved us! Is this getting though your thick skull?!"

The self proclaimed monster looked back down as the word 'hero' kept resonating thought his darkened mind. He didn't know up from down, good from bad, life from death. Chaos and confusion took over his mind in a whirlwind of questions and doubts. 'Monster, hero. Hero, monster. Killed, saved lives...' The words raced through his mind in a hectic rhythm as his body began to rock to the beat.

"Damn it!" Beka hissed as her fingers turned white as they tightened around the metal barrier. The lean muscles twitched up her arm as the yearning to rip the stupid door off it's hinges and jump down to comfort her brother threatened to overwhelm her. "Come on Seamus, I know you can get past this," she pleaded with the only part of her that could reach her shorty.

The rocking continued as his arms raised up to cradle his head. "Monster, hero, killer..." The words now audibly escaped his tortured mind in the form of a mad chant.

"Come on kiddo! Snap out of it!" Panic stripped all color from both Beka and Trance's faces.

"Monster, hero, killer, saved, monster..." The mantra grew to match the increased speed of the rocking.

"Fuck," Beka whispered. They were losing him quickly.

"Ok, come on ladies. Visiting hours are up. Let's go!" The prison guard announced as he approached unnoticed through the thick fog of tension that hung over Harper's cell.

Beka remained glued to the cell as Trance jumped up to handle the unwanted order to leave. "NO! You have to let us down there now!!"

"Sorry, but no, I don't. Now let's go, I got places to go, people to hurt." He grabbed her arm roughly.

"NO!" Trance yelled out in pain, fear and anger. They could not leave Harper like this.

'Monster, hero, kill, save, monster, hero....NO!' Trance's scream broke through the darkness and shattered his trance. All the conflicting ideas, emotions and self images fell away as the lone image of Trance in pain took over his mind. 

"TRANCE!!" He screamed as he jumped to his feet and his fingers dashed to the grating above. Filthy, cut finger rose up through the small opening in the metal barrier. "Trance!?"

Breaking her arm away from the guard's strong grip, Trance rushed down next to Beka as her face glowed with hope.

Both women saw the small vulnerable digits that protruded from below. Almost instantaneously, two pairs of delicate clean fingers made contact with the lone set. Fingers wrapping around fingers in the only type of embrace that was humanly possible at that moment. All eyes locked as they expressed everything that words could not. 

"NOW!! Let's go!" The guard screamed as his pistol could be heard charging behind the women.

Fingers and eyes remained locked.

"NOW!!"

One set of eyes and fingers were torn away as Beka was yanked up by the guard and thrown against the row of empty cells nearby. 

"We'll be back," Trance quickly whispered as she squeezed Harper's fingers tighter. A second later the grip was lost as she too was pulled up by an enraged guard.

"I said now!! Let's go!"

The sound of stumbling footsteps as the group retreating from his cell was all that Harper could hear as his fingers still gripped the grating for dear life. "Come back...please..." he whispered as his finally released his death grip on the metal. He fell back down into the cell and dropped farther away from what he had just found...true comfort. Tirelessly, he crawled back to his corner and resumed his standard position as a slow rocking took control of his body.

"Please...come back." The words fell like dead leaves from his lips as he let his nightmares and agonized haunting sleeplessness overtake him once more.

********

Dylan sighed as he wearily rubbed his eyes. Behind him was the brightness and cleanness of the conference room and government building, ahead of him was the darkness and filth of the drift's corridors and streets. 

"I see them," the android next to him pointed out. Her voice was electric and chipper showing no signs of the endless hours of negotiating they had just both experienced. Dylan hated that. Here he was about to collapse and Rommie sounded like she could run an 50K marathon.

All he could mutter in response was an affirmative grunt. 

Beka and Trance approached the rest of their make-shift family. He hated to admit it to himself, but Dylan was glad that they looked just as exhausted and worn out as he felt.

Beka eyed the other captain. "Didn't go well, did it?" Fear was just under the surface of her words.

Reluctantly he answered back with a small nodded. "But it's not over yet. I was able to get at least another day of negotiations out of them." He noted the rush of panic that raced across both Trance's and Beka's eyes. "But don't worry. I will get him out." 'I hope' "How'd it go with Harper?" He asked as they all began walking back towards the ship they called home.

Silence answered back until Trance stepped up to take one for the team. "He talked, he looked up, and let us touch him...but...he still has a long way to go." Hunt notice the tears she was fighting back. "Dylan, he looks horrible. We have to get down into his cell, for both medical and psychological reasons."

The captain sighed. "I know, I know." His head dropped and his hand instinctively went up to the bridge of his nose even though he knew he would find no comfort in the action. Some habits were hard to break. "I'm working on it."

The day's stress and drain quickly showed itself in the group as silence replaced all conversion. All but Rommie dragged their feet though the filth and trash that lined the drift's floor. As Dylan sneaked glances at his exhausted and downtrodden crew members, all he could hope for was that somehow he could pull of a miracle tomorrow.

TBC


	34. Chapter 34

A/N: Here we go again. :) Thanks for the feedback, I love it. It feeds the annoying little gremlins that like to chew on my legs, so thank you! And here is the next part, chopped full of angst. Enjoy!

Chapter 34

The next day the weary crew repeated the previous day with Dylan and Rommie continuing the negotiations and Beka and Trance continuing the rescuing of their Seamus. Tyr once more got to stay on board to finish reading "The Fountainhead" for the fifth time. At times he wished Ayn Rand could have his children.

As Beka entered the darkened cramped prison for the third time, her revulsion was just a strong as the first visit. The cold foul air wafted up her nostrils and sent a noticeable chill down her spine. Her mind wanted to run away, back to the safety of the Andromeda, but her heart kept her feet moving forward towards her trapped shorty.

Reaching the eerily motionless cell, Beka began to worry that the long lonely night might have erased all progress that was made yesterday. She desperately tried to be positive for everyone. "Hey Harper!" she chirped as she and Trance plopped back down on the dirt covered metal floor. Looking down through the cell's grated ceiling, Beka was met by her worst fear. Harper was right back in his shadowed corner trying to rock comfort into himself.

"Hey, come on hero, don't we at least get a 'hello'?" She hoped that word, 'hero', would re-awaken the healing of yesterday. Each second of silence that followed seemed like a lifetime.

"Hey," a small weak voice came up through the floor. His mind was still a mess, but the rabid montage of superheroes and monstrous villains had ended during the long night. He even managed to lift his head up and look his friends in...well, the forehead. 

Up above him, the two women's hearts soared with joy as they looked upon his sickly yet beautiful face. "We have some goodies for you," Trance said as she pulled out the bag she carried. "Do you feel like medicine or food first...and before you turn all green on us, it's nice bland food. Your temperamental stomach should have no problem with it."

"Should?" His eyebrow raised itself in a doubtful manner. 'Well stomach, do you want to try some food, yes, I know, strange concept,' he said to his digestive track. All the food, if one could call it that, he had gotten recently was stale moldy bread which was followed by pathetic amounts of water that was literally poured down into his cell. He had to resort to licking the liquid off the filthy floors to remain alive. And now he had the chance of real food, but did he want it, did he deserve it? Looking up at the begging faces of his family, there was no way he could hurt them by saying no. "Um, food, but do you have any water first?" 

"Yep," Trance replied cheerfully as she pulled the water bottle from her bag. Looking at the large bottle and then to the small openings in the grating, a look of confusion arrived on her face. "How do you want to do this?"

Harper slowly rolled onto his knees and half squatted/half stood so that his face was cocked against the grate. His hands firmly gripped the metal in order to support his weakened body in that odd half upright position. "Pour." He ordered quietly as he opened his dry mouth. Shame wanted to shove him back down seeing that he felt like a dog begging for food, but the overwhelming thirst that came when he saw that clean clear liquid pushed any shame back down deep inside him.

Carefully Trance poured the life liquid into the void of Harper's mouth. It stung in a heavenly sort of way as it rolled down his sore throat washing away the taste of dirt that had resided there for months. He felt it burn all the way down his esophagus and into his stomach which grumbled in complaint. It had come to enjoy being a loner. No matter how carefully Trance poured, some water still managed to find it's way out of his mouth and down his face. By the time the trickle of water made it to his neckline, the previously clear liquid was just a viscous blackened goo from all the dirt and dried blood layered on his skin.

As his stomach grumbled louder and louder, Harper pulled away from the life liquid. "Thanks," he whispered not even bothering to wipe away the stray water that dripped off his face.

The girls just nodded and pulled out the food. Again having to deal with the barrier, they broke up the bland sandwich into tiny bits and handed it down. With much trepidation he finally got one of the pieces into his mouth and chewed for minutes. Swallowing that small bit of food was the hardest thing he had down in months. Keeping it down was even harder. Almost an hour later he had finished one half of the sandwich and felt completely stuffed. 'See stomach, food is good,' he both reminded his body and mind.

"Now medicine." Beka ordered strongly.

Without any grips or grimaces, Harper presented his bare arm up against the grate. Beka paled at the complete lack of fuss from her normally medicine-phobic engineer. Trance too looked on with shock before she shook herself out of it and began to pull out needle after needle from her omnipresent bag. Immunity boosters, pain killers, nutrients, healing nanobots, vitamins and even some mood alternating psychiatric medicine. She figured Harper need all the help he could get. Better living through medicine.

After countless injections, Harper's arm began to feel like a pincushion. "Are you done yet?" He whined sounding almost normal, minus the overlaying despair that laced every word.

"Yes," Trance answered as she shoved the last needle into his arm, injected it and pulled it out.

"Good," he said with a sigh as he collapsed onto the floor like marionette who's strings had been cut. His legs burned from the rare muscle use and his arms felt like wet noodles from supporting his quivering body.

Beka allowed him a few minutes rest before she started up today's topic. "Um, Harper, we need to talk about what happened."

His breathing stopped. "No, its the past, no talking, its done."

"No, its not...that is unless you're able to come back on board with all of us and not drink yourself to death, or shove needles in your arm, or pull away from us in some other unmentionable act."

"I can," he mumbled in a very unconvincing tone.

"Ok then, let's try this....Dylan Hunt."

Visible tremors took hold of Harper, a glean of cold sweat appeared on his skin, and any color that was visible through the grime and dirt drained from his face.

"I thought so," Beka said sadly not being at all happy that she had been vindicated.

"I-I-I can han-handle it... its o-okay." He spat out trying to take control back from his subconscious. After a few deep breaths, he had his body back and was able to drop his head in shame. "Does he even want me back on board?"

"You heard him the other day. Of course he wants you back. The guilt over what he did and said to you is eating him alive. Hell, I even think out of all of us, he might just be the one who wants to give you a welcome back hug the most." She allowed the group a slight giggle at the image of big, noble Captain Hunt racing up and enveloping Harper in a giant bear hug.

Unfortunately, the image in Harper's mind ended with the hug turning violent and Harper becoming a bloody, beaten mess at Dylan's feet. 

"Shorty?" Beka asked with concern.

Why did they want him back? Why did they come here and ruin his perfect plan. Rot in cell and then die in cell. It was so simple and so easy, yet here they were wreaking it. They said they were sorry, that they wanted him back. Did he accept their apologizes, did he want them back? Could he ever really look at them again without either seeing their faces contorted in pain or their fists and feet pummeling him to death?

"Seamus, talk to us." Beka ordered as the silence stretched on. The new quiet Harper was freaking her out to say the least.

He wanted to reply but didn't know what to say. To tell them to leave? To stay? To take him away from his cell and his plan? To kill him? "Beka..." he started hoping that his mind would take it from there. "I'm just so confused." He buried his head into his hands. "Part of me wants to die here, tells me I deserve to die here...but another part wants to go with you, for you to pull me up from this hell...but, then there's a part that never wants to see you again, that can't even look at any of you..." Tears choked away his words. "I-I-I just don't know." Tremors of unshed tears took hold of him.

Beka looked down at the lost soul that was once her only true family. Not family of blood or DNA, but family of the heart, of the soul and spirit. Family that she choose to open herself up to, family that she could not bear to be without. "Seamus, listen to me, please." She hoped her words could find him in that shadowed corner he was lost in. "First, you do not deserve to die here, not like this, hell not like anyway. You don't even deserve to be down there. You deserve a life vacation on Infinity Atoll, to surf all day and pick up women all night. You deserve never to know sorrow or pain again. You do not deserve to die in this hell hole. Do you hear me Seamus?" Knowing no reply would come from the cowering boy below, she continued on. "I...no, we don't care that you killed that drug dealer. We don't care that you tortured us. Hell, we don't even care that you brutally slaughter 3,000 Pythos. And do you know why? Because we know that you did all that to help us, to save us... your family. Um, well minus the drug dealer, but hey, I'm sure he had it coming. Anyways," she tried to get back to the point. "I can understand how you feel towards us, about never wanting to see us again after...after what we did to you." Guilt pierced through that last part as she dropped her voice and head. Trance placed a supportive hand on Beka's shoulder willing her to go on. "I'm not going to use the excuse that we were under Calastor control even though we were. All we can do is say how deeply sorry we are...how sorry I am. If I could take back those words, those days of avoidance afterwards, the pain I caused you...I would in a heartbeat...b-but I can't. I can say how hollow and painful these past few months have been without you. Seamus Zealanzy Harper, you are our glue, the heart of the ship and the light in our souls. We need you more than life itself...and I think you need us just as much. So all I can do is to ask is for your forgiveness and to beg you to come back with us." A tear slid down her face and fell down below landing next to Harper's feet. "And all I can tell you is that we love you Seamus...that I love you with all my being and that we won't leave you here to die." She wiped the tears from her eyes. "Did you get all that shorty?"

'Love...' The word bounced around Harper's mind until the original meaning was lost and all that was left was the word 'pain'. For that is all that love had ever given him...or given anyone who dared to love him. He was so sick of it, sick of everything. Of breathing, of his annoying heartbeat, of the constant questions and thoughts that raced through his mind, and especially of pain. He kept his head down, but allowed his voice to be carried upward in a strong and cold tone. "Could you please go?"

"What!?" Both women asked back in shock. There was no way that that long speech Beka just made could not have gotten through his thick skull...was there?

"Just go." His voice was just a strong and determined as before as he not only talked to his friends but to the whole universe.

"NO! Harper!?" It was Trance's turn now. "Didn't you hear Beka? We love you and we will not leave you! You don't deserve this."

"I heard her, now leave."

"Why, Harper, why do you want us to leave?" Trance asked hoping for some insight.

Harper answered without ever looking up or changing the tone of his voice. Coldness was the word of the day. "So you don't get hurt anymore, ok, that why. I'm fine down here, it's nice and cozy. You'll forget about me soon enough, trust me, and you'll see how much better off you are. So just go....and so you don't feel all guilty, I do forgive you guys for what you did and said to me. Happy? Can you leave now?"

"SEAMUS ZEALANZY HARPER!! NO!!" Beka screamed with every bit of love she had in her heart for the poor tormented lost soul below. "I could live for five thousand years and still never forget you. And you know what...I'd still love you. You cannot push me away, okay! Any pain that you may think you cause I am more than willing to live with if that means I get you. And you know what else, your opinion has just been overruled until you are back in your right mind. You are coming back with us no matter what you say. If we have to tie you up and drag you back to the ship, so be it. If we have to gag you and chain you to a chair for your giant welcome home party, than that is the way it will be. Got that shorty?!" 

"Whatever," he huffed as his psyche had exhausted it's last ounce of energy. It was too much and he was too tired to deal with anything any more. In the dimly lit version of his mind, he walked over to the giant switch that hung in mid air and flipped it into the off position. He then calmly walked over to the corner of his mind where his monsters were conjugated and sat down among them. 'Hey guys,' he greeted all his pains and sufferings. 'Got a beer?'

"Harper?"

"Harper!?"

"Damn it Seamus, TALK!"

Beka's fists pummeled the grating until her hands were bleeding as Trance stood by watching in shock. Through all the racket Beka was making, Harper wasn't even flinching.

"Seamus....no..." Anger and frustration soon turned into sobs as Beka collapsed on the grating sending tears down onto Harper's bare feet. 

"Come on Beka," Trance said gently as she pulled Beka up. "Let's give him some space to think." The golden alien pulled Beka into a hug as she got her upright. Slowly she guided Beka out of Harper's view had he even bothered to look up. Wiping away one of Beka's stray tears, Trance guided her friend's face upward to meet eye to eye. She placed her finger to her lips to indicated silence and then pointed to the floor. Beka nodded slightly in agreement and understanding. Slowly Trance supported her captain back down onto the cold metal. 

Together they sat on that hard floor in complete silence as if they were angels watching over their Seamus. Hours later the guard came to usher the quiet women out and away from their charge.

Below his angels, Harper sat the whole time drinking beers with his demons. He knew Beka and Trance were still up there having never heard them leave until the guard came, but he just didn't care...he couldn't care. He just didn't have the energy or emotions to care. 'Hey, Guilt, pass me 'nother one,' he asked as Guilt's monstrous furry claw handed him a large bottle of Neubayern Weisbrau. 'Thanks.' He muttered as he chugged down the cool sweet liquid of escape.

******* 

"We shouldn't have just left him like that Trance, not without saying that we'd be back or something." Beka argued as Trance and herself entered through the large entryway of Andromeda's command deck.

"He wouldn't have heard us Beka. His mind was shut down. What he needs now is time alone to allow his thoughts to sort through everything."

"I hope you're right. I just can't stand the thought of losing him aga-" Beka's voice fell to the deck as both her and Trance caught their first glimpse of the current occupants on command.

To the side of them, Tyr was leaning into the wall with his back turned to the entire crew. His arm was raised up with his hand pressing hard into the solid ship as his limp dreadlocks covered his fallen face. In the middle of command, right before the girls, stood Rommie and Dylan. The android's eyes were red from her all-to-real tears while her nose snuffled from the emotions that she was still not used to experiencing. But it was Dylan that made Beka and Trance's hearts stop mid-beat, that made the air rush from their lungs and the blood drain from their faces.

His eyes were bloodshot and watery, his fists were so tight that his knuckles were white while his fingers were slowly turning crimson red from the blood oozing from his cut palms. Wrinkles that were never noticed before screamed for attention on his paled face. For the first time, he looked like he really could have been three hundred years old. Without blinking he spoke in a tone that sent shivers down the girls' backs. "The negotiations are over."

The legs that held Beka above the deck began to quiver under the weight of the situation.

Still Dylan didn't blink and his tone didn't waver. For the first time ever, Beka and Trance could not find an ounce of hope in his voice. "I tried everything...bargaining, threatening, begging...everything." Now he blinked a blink that never ended as his eyes stayed closed. He could no longer face his family. "Harper will be released into our care, but only after he serves a year of his sentence." Tears rolled down the strong captain's now lowered face. "We have to leave him down there...I-I failed."

******

Harper felt Beka's warm embrace comforting every inch of his being. Her arms gently wrapped around him, protecting him from the darkness and demons that raged around them just outside the circle of light that kept them safe. "Stay Beka." He begged as tears rolled down his face. He inhaled deeply taking in as much of her scent as possible. The scent that meant safety, that meant comfort...that meant home. "Stay." The growl of the demons and monsters echoed into the light as the darkness outside grew darker and darker. "Please, I need you." The arms that enveloped him in comfort suddenly grew tighter and tighter until the air was pushed out of his lungs. "B-Beka?" he gasped in pain as he could no longer inhale her sweet aroma.

"Ego Whore," she whispered calmly into his ear as she lifted up his suddenly beaten body and threw him out of the light and into the surrounding void. The growls and grunts of his demons enveloped him as they began originating not only from around him but from inside him. 

"Beka!! Help!" He cried out as the light that surrounded the now heckling Beka slowly faded from view until it was only a faint star that blinked out in an unspectacular wink. "NOOOO!!!!" The word tore from his throat as he reached out towards the now darkened area hoping to find the star again, hoping for hope. But all his hand found were more monstrous claws grasping for his outstretched arm, ripping the flesh from his now visible bones. "Noooo....Beka...Bek-" His sobs were cut off as a claw was slapped over his mouth and his entire being was engulfed by his own demons and monsters.

"Aggghhhh!!!" His voice returned to him as he returned to reality...a reality of hell. His lungs gasped in the stale cold foul air which erased any memory of Beka's comforting scent that had been all around him only seconds ago. As the images of his demons still flashed in his mind, he tried to figure out which was worse, the hell or the nightmares. The jury was still out.

"No more sleep," he muttered as for the moment he decided on hell. He wrapped his quivering arms around his likewise quivering body as he stared at the nearby stain coated metal wall. It was just like the other three walls that surrounded him, dark, dirty, and stained from the blood, urine, and other bodily fluids of the tortured prisoners of years past. But there was something special about this wall, something that made him want to stare at it for hours, something that was the reason he always found comfort in the same corner hellish minute after hellish minute. It was a stain, or really an accumulations of stains that in his mind reminded him of the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. If he squinted just right, those blood and urine stains took on the shape of a certain cargo captain, Beka Valentine. "Come back Beka, please come back," he begged to the stain hoping that somehow the real Beka could hear his plea and would come back to save his worthless ass just one more time.

TBC.......


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

"I failed," Dylan whispered again as he hung his head in defeat and the faint words echoed throughout the silent command deck.

Beka stared on in utter shock. A year? They would have to leave her Seamus down in that squalored hole for a whole year!? Over her dead body they would. Harper won out over the Commonwealth any day in her mind. Her anger boiled up inside until it was ready to burst. She then took aim and fired at the barer of the bad news. "YOU SURE AS HELL FAILED!! 'I'll get him out, I promise, we won't leave without him, I promise,'" Beka mocked in Dylan's voice. "Any other promises you'd like to break while you're at it Captain Terrific?!" By now, Beka was raging only inches away from Dylan's downcast face as tear slid down into the bag under his eye. "Don't you dear cry!!! You caused this! You forced Harper off the ship! You don't get to cry over him YOU BASTARD!!!" Beka quickly broke away from her stare with Dylan knowing that if she stayed that close for one second longer Dylan would leave command as a bloody mess. She began pacing madly as she continued her rant at full volume.

Dylan just stood there, taking in every vial hateful word Beka shot at him. He never yelled back, never tried to stop her. He knew that he deserved this, hell, he expected it and even craved it. Harper was going to have to rot in that cell for year while he, the magnificent Dylan Hunt, the mockery of a captain that couldn't even free his own engineer, would be enjoying all the comforts of Andromeda. Beka's loathing was getting off easy in Dylan's mind. He should be down there with Harper, or better yet instead of Harper. That idea had even popped into his mind. A trade, Harper's freedom for his imprisonment. But the idea could never find it's way to his mouth. He was too much of a coward to face a year in that hole and yet he just sent Harper to such a fate. Yell Beka, yell.

And that she did. She yelled so much that she changed her hair color subconsciously. Pacing the deck with furry, she was now a flaming redhead.

Behind Beka stood the forgotten about Trance who fidgeted nervously in a manner very similar to her young purple self. As Beka screamed, Trance was looking at the futures. A swarm of butterflies fluttered around her stomach as she realized what had to be done. In order to preserve the perfect possible future, Harper had to stay in jail. They had to leave him down there. The butterflies slowly turned into dragons which chewed ferociously on her stomach lining. How could she even go along with this plan, how could she walk this path without hating herself? She wanted to be next to Beka screaming her head off, yelling at Dylan to fight for Harper's freedom, to come up with some other way. But, she knew there was no other way that would not plunge the future into a insurmountable darkness. A Commonwealth discarded, a crew torn apart, fugitives from the Saber-Jaguars and viewed as unwelcome hypocrites in the eyes of every planet in the Universe. So instead of yelling, instead of fighting for Harper, Trance stood back and watched and waited. Watched as Beka tore Dylan's heart out, watched as Harper rotted in the cell and waited for the perfect future to finally arrive some day.

Still yelling, even though her voice was going horse, Beka screamed something about betrayal, trust, etc., etc., but Tyr had turned out the screeching human. He was too busy trying to convince himself not to bust into the prison, break the neck of every guard there, grab the boy and race away. He knew what that would mean for his survival, for his larger plans and yet for some reason the thought of a jail break would not leave his mind. 'Damn that boy for getting under my skin,' he cursed himself as he pressed his open palm harder against the wall, hoping to push down the image of him swooping down and rescuing the annoying little professor. 'Damn him.'

Rommie stood next to her captain as she counted the number of times Beka had used the "F" word in the last five minutes. Thirty-six so far, very impressive. The android was quite happy that no one had tried to stop Beka's tirade seeing that she was currently living vicariously thought her spunky first officer. She couldn't agree more with everything Beka was saying, they couldn't leave Harper down there, not now, not ever. He had saved them all and now they were just going to abandon him? It wasn't right, wasn't fair...but then again life isn't fair. It's cruel and cold and unforgiving. She knew this, her logic chips told her so. They also told her that they had to leave him, that it was their only choice and her programming told her that she had to stand by her captain. Damn Harper for programming her so well.

"...can you just stand there? You're going to kill Harper!" Beka screamed as her body finally began to feel the effects of her long outburst. Her clenched fists shook at her sides as she bit her quivering lip to keep the harshest words locked in her mind. Word that she knew she would forever regret saying. 

Dylan took the pause to finally speak up. Taking in a deep shaky breath, he began. "B-Beka, I agree with you. I hate myself for even considering leaving him, but we have no other choice. The Saber-Jaguar pride is too important a member of the Commonwealth to piss off. If we break Harper out just like we all want to, then the Saber-Jaguars would pull out of the Commonwealth and would take with them several other powerful planets. They already stated so much in the negotiations. Even if they suspect us of planning a break out, they said they would leave the Commonwealth." Dylan's fists tighten as he remembered the smug look on the Sabers' ugly faces as they played with the power of their new found leverage over the Commonwealth. Having the Andromeda's only engineer as a legal prisoner in their jails was a gold mind for their pride and they were not about to give him up easily.

"Believe me on this Beka, I've been over it thousands of times in my head. We have to leave him down there...but, we will not leave him in his current state. In the deal I got us full access to Harper. We are allowed down into his cell with guards present at any time during visitor hours. We will not leave until we are all satisfied with his health, both mentally and physically. And when we do leave, we will be coming back often to check on him. We might have to leave him, but I refuse to abandon him." He looked sternly at Beka. Her expression was hard to read. Angry? Pacified? Listening? Thinking? He continued on in ignorance. "Beka, I need you to promise me something, promise me you won't go and do anything stupid...please."

Beka looked Dylan over before she spoke. "Do you want a Dylan promise or a real promise?"

The bridge fell dead to the tension between the two captains.

After noticing Dylan wasn't going to reply, Beka's harsh voice filled the air. "Don't worry, Dylan, I won't do anything stupid." She then turned on her heels and walked calmly out of command.

A quiet Dylan turned to Rommie. "Keep an eye on her, that went too well."

Rommie nodded silently in agreement knowing full well that Beka would not leave Harper down there without one hell of a fight.

*************

As it was decided earlier, only Beka and Dylan went down to see Harper the next day. This was the day Harper would learn of his future. Beka had insisted on going down alone, insisting that only she should be there when Harper found out that they were leaving him. After another long shouting match, Dylan had convinced Beka that he needed to be the one to tell Harper. It was his responsibility and his punishment for failing to keep a promise to Harper once more. Dylan was starting to hate his score sheet with the small human. 

It was a long quiet walk to the prison that morning as tension alone filled the space between the two captains. They entered the depressing prison and were escorted by the well armed warden and a guard to Harper's cell.

The warden pulled out his remote and pressed in some commands until the grated door unlocked with a thundering sound that reverberated down the long empty corridor. "Captain," the warden grumbled as he displayed the open cell with one hand and clutched at his weapon with the other. 

Looking over at his first officer, Dylan didn't see the spunky jovial blonde he had come to love. While she was a blonde again, her features were now hard and angry. Her lips were in a tight sneer and her eyes were fueled by anger over the whole situation. He turned towards her and put a comforting hand on her stiff shoulder. "Beka, I'm truly sorry. I wish there was another way." She only replied with a harsher glare. Sighing, Dylan turned and approached the now open hole in the ground.

Looking down into the darkness, his stomach boarded a roller coaster and was already plummeting down that first steep drop. "Here goes everything," he whispered to himself as he dropped down to the floor three feet below. 

His boots hit the metal floor with a loud echoing thud and he squatted down to see the hell he had just entered. It was small, drafty, and after he tried to take a deep calming breath, he discovered it had a very, very rancid odor. Blood, urine, bile, feces, sweat, and something else. After only a few seconds in the cell, he realized what the mystery scent was....hopelessness. 

Blood drained from his face as it finally hit him that he had condemned Harper to stay in this place for year. Harper...where was he? Dylan had been so caught up in the overwhelming conditions of the hole that he hadn't spotted his reason for being down there. Quickly scanning the small area he saw his engineer right off the bat. In the darkest corner was a crouching figure. The faint light from above outlined Harper's features: Clothes that hung off his skeletal body, the hard lines that his sunken cheekbones now created and the bottomless bags that seemed to be a permanent fixture under his unblinking eyes. Dylan wasn't even sure if the boy had noticed his arrival or not. Harper seemed fixated on the wall across from him as if it held the meaning of life and if he blinked, he would miss it. 

"Harper?" Dylan asked in a quiet gentle voice knowing full well what his presence might do to the precarious nature of Harper's mind. 

With his eyes still locked on the wall, Harper's body stiffened at the mere sound of Dylan's voice.

"I'm not here to hurt you." Dylan lied knowing what a year in this place could do to a person. "I can't tell you how sorry I am for all my past actions. Under Calastor control or under my own volition, I was wrong for what I did and said. I had the whole situation backwards. I was trying to protect us from you when I should have been trying to protect you from us and for that I will forever be sorry."

Dylan's words echoed around the small space and into Harper's brain. A glean of a cold sweat arose from beneath the layers of filth on his face. His pulse quickened and small tremors begun to shake his body, but his eyes remained unmoving.

Trying to ease Harper's anxiety, Dylan backed up all he could into his own corner. His larger body mirrored Harper's crouching position as best as it could. For a man of Dylan's size, the cell seemed even more claustrophobic. Dylan had only been down there for a few minutes and still had the open hatchway above him, and yet he already wanted out. His stomach hit the triple loop on the roller coaster. How could he condemn Harper to this? He swallowed down his conscious and continued on. "Harper...I have some news. Um...you know that I've been negotiating your release into our care and well, er...we've reached a, um, outcome." The word agreement had popped into Dylan's mind but this was in no way agreeable...this was vial. "Oh god, how do I tell you this...I guess just say it, right? Ok, well, I did all I could, b-but I could only get you released after you serve a year of your sentence. God Harper, I'm sorry, so sorry. I failed you, again, and after you saved us." He could hold in his emotions no longer as tears began to roll down his face. "I can't tell you how much I want you out of here, away from any pain. You've experienced more than anyone should and there I go failing you again." The High Guard captain stopped speaking long enough to wipe away his tear and choke down the lump that had took up residence in his throat. His stomach was on the corkscrew turns on the coaster now. "Even though we'll have to leave, we will come back often to see you, I swear. We will not let you fall any farther away from us Harper. And in a y-y-year, we will march back down here and take you away from this hell forever. Ok Harper?"

But of course Harper didn't respond to Dylan's sniffling plea. He didn't even wipe off the bead of sweat that hung precariously off his nose. 

Believing for a second Harper was truly gone, Dylan's stomach jumped the coaster track and plumped to the darkness below. "Harper? Did you even hear me?

A small weak voice burned into Dylan's soul. "Yes, I heard you."

"And?" Dylan prepped.

"And, fine, whatever." Cold, flat, unnerving, empty.

"Harper? I just told you we have to leave you here for a whole year and that's all you have to say?" Dylan was flabbergasted.

"Yes."

Carefully Dylan leaned forward hoping for some reaction from the statue of Harper.

"You can leave now." Voice still cold and eyes still unmoving.

"No! Not until you've yelled at me, attacked me or show some sign of being alive in that shell of a body!!" He inched closer to Harper hoping to see some spark of life.

"Please leave now."

Ignoring the stern order, Dylan did the opposite and reached out a trembling hand towards Harper. Then doing the unthinkable, Dylan gently grasped Harper's stick of an arm. Instantly Harper jumped to life as he ripped his arm way from Dylan and replaced it with a swift kick to Dylan's stomach. Even in his weakened state, Harper's kick managed to send the larger man flying across the cell and into the wall. "I SAID LEAVE!!!" Anger transformed Harper's face into that of a ghastly monster. 

Gasping for breath, Dylan's eyes widened as he stared across at the stranger Harper had become. Looking deeper into the earther's eyes, Dylan realized that it was no stranger staring at him with such hate, it was the man that massacred 3,000 Pythos. That was the face that had popped out of that duct and smiled at the puddles of Ex-Pythos that he had created. That was the Harper that years of hurt, pain and death had created in order to survive. 

Dylan held his chest as he tried to comfort his newly broken ribs. "H-Harper, it's ok, I'll leave, I'll leave." He began to stand up. "But we will be coming back no matter what you say or do to us. You cannot get rid of us this easily." He warned as his head and then body disappeared through the lighted hole above. 

Dylan was greeted back into the light by a worried Beka who's outstretched hand said more that a thousand words could. As he got to his feet he looked over at the warden and guard who both had sick satisfied grins on their sleazy faces. This Andromeda crew was the most entertainment they've had in years.

"That went well," Beka snarked.

"Yah, wonderfully." He winced as he fingered his new injury.

"I want some time alone with him," Beka said sternly. It was not a request, more of an order that if one valued one's life, one would follow.

"I figured as much." 

Looking over her shoulders at the two Nietzscheans, Beka continued. "With no guards either."

The big thug of a warden stepped up next to the feisty human. "Well, Hon, if you want that, then you're gonna have to take you're pretty little kludge ass down into that cell as we lock you in. It's not that I don't trust you, well, it is that exactly." He stroked his large weapon.

"Fine," Beka replied quickly as she dropped into the cell without a moment of hesitation. Crouching down into the darkness below she replied, "Lock it."

All of the large muscular males above let their jaws hit the floor at the blonde's complete willingness to jump into that stinking rotting hell hole. She jumped into it as if she was jumping into a Jacuzzi not some claustrophobic prison cell. 

Once the warden shook the shock from his system, he pulled out his remote and locked the cell. "Yell when you want out. We'll be in the next corridor over....maybe," he snickered.

After hearing the three sets of boots march away from the cell door and disappear down the corridor, Beka finally took in what she had just committed herself to being confined in. It was so small and seemed to grow smaller by the moment. She had the sudden urge to stretch out, to do whatever the tiny space wouldn't allow her to do. As the smell of the cell made its way to her brain, she started taking in short shallow breaths in order to lessen her exposure to the foul offending air. Her eyes scanned the darkness until they laid eyes on Harper who was crouching down in a ready-to-attack position in the corner. His chest was moving rapidly as his lungs sucked in the cool air at a fast, ragged pace. His eyes stared at her from behind his limp, disheveled hair, held the fury of a wild trapped animal. Her heart raced as the fear of the situation just kicked in. Harper wouldn't harm her...would he? 

"Hey Shorty." She managed to croak out through her fear without sounding completely terrified.

Thankfully at the sound of her voice, his breaths calmed and he blinked away the wild beast from his eyes.

"Can I come closer?" She asked as her fear diminished.

Harper silently nodded as he let his legs slid out from under him and rested his back against the cool wall. If his back could still feel sensations, the cool bite from the metal would have sent shivers through his body.

"Thanks." Beka slowly made her way across the short distance of the cell. Not wanting to see what she was about to sit in, Beka quickly plopped down directly across from her adopted brother. Unbeknownst to her, her head laid right in front of the Beka shaped stain. She looked across at her lost friend, at the thing he had become. Shallow face shrouded in darkness, eyes that would never quite meet her gaze, filthy rags that made a sad substitute for clothing and hung from his body like clothes hung over a clothesline. She looked at his face trying to find an inch of skin that was not a bruise or covered by layers of dirt or blood. Where were the bright clothing, the sparkling eyes, the bouncing ball of energy that she couldn't even get to sit still long enough for him to chug down a can of Sparky Cola? She desperately searched his face for any sign of her Harper. 

"How are you doing?" She knew, stupid question to ask a condemned man, but it was all her brain could come up with.

"Dandy," he replied quietly as he fidgeted with one of the many loose threads on his pants. The fidgeting and sarcastic reply rose Beka's hopes that maybe her Harper was still in there somewhere.

"Are the medicines working? Are you feeling any better?" 

"Yah, it only hurts when I breath now." He watched as the thread wound its way around his finger. "Beka, what do you want?"

"Get to the point huh? Ok, fine." As she leaned forward so that she was only inches from his emotionless face, she realized how badly he smelled. It was a mix of alcohol and the lovely scent of the cell only amplified. Maybe it was him that smelled so bad and not the cell. Pushing away the thoughts of his odor, she reminded herself why she was down there. She kept her voice low so that only he could hear her. "I'm here to tell you that you're leaving this shit hole. Screw Dylan, screw the Commonwealth. I'm coming for you tonight, so be ready. I said I won't leave you here and I won't." Unlike some people, she kept her promises.

That got Harper's full attention as he jerked his head up to look at his soon to be rescuer and forgot about the thread.

"Yah, I thought that would get those eyes to look up finally." Beka smiled as she saw a glimpse of her old Seamus. He was indeed still alive somewhere in there. "Soon you and I will be in the Maru, flying around free as the birds. Just like old times." Her face lit up as images of her and Harper enjoying a carefree life on the Maru filled her mind. She had expected Harper to mirror her joy but, as always, her expectations were crushed.

Harper's eyes grew hard as he swallowed down the rock that had lodged itself in his throat. "No, Beka, we won't." His voice was calm but determined. "You have to leave me here. You hav-"

"NO!" Beka yelled aghast before she remembered to keep her voice down. "Damn it, do we have to go over this again. You're worth it Seamus. You don't belong down here."

"Yes I do, but that's not why I have to stay and why you can't break me out. Think about it Beka. This is not some two bit pathetic drift. This is a Saber-Jaguar drift. They won't just let me escape. They will hunt us down like wild animals until they capture us and stick us back down here...and this is if we're lucky. And it would be us, Beka, US!! Not just me, but you too. I won't let you suffer that fate for me."

"They won't catch us, ok. We've done this before." Her hand jumped to his knee before he could jerk it away. "I refuse to leave you down here." 

He looked down at her hand, so soft and pure even with the hardness that working on the Maru had caused. He knew she would never make it down here, she'd go crazy within a week of being confined. Beka never did prison cells well and she had never been in an uber prison before. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if she got trapped down here too. He had to convince her to leave him for her own good and knew of only one sure fire way to do so. 

Slowly he moved his quivering blackened hand over her soft peach one and embraced it in a tight grasp. "Beka." He looked up at her face as his eyes fought to find their target. After many readjustments they finally locked onto her sweet blue eyes. "Beka, you have to leave me, not for Dylan, not for the freak'n Commonwealth, but for me and for yourself. I couldn't live with myself if you get caught because of me. I'm not worth one more person sacrificing any part of themselves for. Too many...it must stop...you can't be one of them." He rambled on as his eye bore into her soul trying desperately to get her to understand.

"B-But, Seamus, you are worth it, you are, you so are." Her other hand fell on top of his and her warmth surround his cold hand. "I can't leave you here. I-"

"Yes you can, and you will because I can survive this punishment. A year in here will be a piece of cake." He hoped that would be enough, that he wouldn't have to go on with the reasoning behind that statement. He so wanted her to say 'Ok, I trust you. I'll see you in a year,' and to get up and leave. But it was never that easy with stubborn Beka.

"Stop lying to me Harper. Look at you, starved, dehydrated, beaten and distant. This is no place for you to be, especially after what you've just been through. You need medical treatment, a soft bed, warm covers, food, water...I could go on for hours. You can't last down here a month let alone a year. Now shut up and let me rescue you."

'Damn you Beka,' he cursed in his mind. Now she was here to rescue him. Now, of all times, a wish of his finally came true but it carried with it a lovely evil twist. 'I can't let her do it, I can't.' He dropped his eyes and brought up his other hand on top of hers. Now his coldness invaded the warmth of her hand. Drawing strength from the contact, he willed himself to tell her what he knew she had to hear before she would leave. "Beka, I can survive this because I've already survived so much worse. I'm guessing you've probably already seen my scars, the ones that match your new ones...and I'm guessing you've already put two and two together...but you don't know the whole story. I've never told anyone this before and I never want to again, so just listen and try to understand that I can survive a year in here." He looked up at Beka, her eyes ripe with tears, her mouth closed tightly signaling a wiliness to listen to what he had to say. She was always good at that, at shutting up when he was finally willing to speak of his past. He dropped his head back down and closed his eyes as he allowed the memories of that horrid monstrosity of a year to flood back into his consciousness. He realized that nightmares would haunt him for months because of this trip down memory lane, but there was no other way.

With eyes still closed and with a tight grip on Beka's hands to remind him of the present, he began to talk. He told her of the burial that brought him out that night, of the chase, the kills, and of the capture. He told her of the massive panic that overwhelmed him when he woke up strapped to that concrete slab which wreaked of the blood, sweat and pain of the last uber plaything. He told her of his first experience, of the pain and terror as he fought so hard against the restraints that he still had scars to this day from where they dug into his skin. He told her of the weeks that followed, of the session with one particularly evil uber who had a fascination with rusted nails and screws. He told her of the months that followed, of the pain from not being able to move a muscle for that long a time. Of the insatiable thirst that drove him to drink his own blood that poured down his face after one particularly ugly session. Too caught up in the past, he didn't notice the tremors that shook his body in the present world of the jail cell. With his eyes still closed, he told her about his 17th birthday and then aboutthe escape through the pile of living corpses and about his long journey back to safety and life.

Silence hung over the pair as both choked back tears, Harper's of the pain from the past and Beka from overwhelming empathy.

Now back in his present hell, Harper pulled back one hand to wipe away the tears before he opened his eyes and looked at Beka. "Do you understand? Are you able to leave me now?"

Beka let the tears roll down her face. What he had just told her made her want to rescue him even more, to protect him from any more pain, and yet she could still see his twisted logic. He had already been through more horror than she could ever imagine. No wonder he had nightmares every night. Compared to what he just told her, the prison cell they were in was a luxury hotel. How could she go against his wish, how could she take the chance of causing him any more anguish by adding the guilt of her fate to his conscious. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She could never survive in this cell. Already, she was itching to be let out and it had only been an hour or so. Wiping away her own tears she gave Harper the answer he needed to hear. "I understand and will do as you wish...but, we will be coming back to check on you, bring you food, water and medicine. You might have had to go through your last hell alone, but his time you got us kiddo." She shifted her weight to her feet as she got up and moved next to Harper, never once letting go of his hand. "And now that we finally found you, we will not lose you again." She place her free arm around his tiny famished frame and pulled him into her. Surprisingly to both, he let her embrace him and even leaned into her as he rested his weary head on her shoulder.

Together they sat in silence, hands still embraced in their joined lap, Beka's arm holding Harper tightly against her as his tremors completely vanished for the first time since this whole thing started. Without a word being spoken for hours, they sat there healing each other until Dylan and the Nietzscheans approached the cell.

"Times up Princess." The warden spoke loudly as the cage door hissed open.

Beka let go of her embrace of Harper. "I'll be back tomorrow. Are you gonna be okay?" She brushed away the hair that fell on his face, his spikes completely lost.

"I am now," he whispered.

"Good." She quickly kissed him on the forehead. "Ick, patooe. Harper, you need a bath," she joked as a small smile appeared through the grime on his face.

"For some reason I don't think they offer that here at Hotel d'la Shit-hole," he joked back.

She smiled as she got up and headed for the opening. "Tomorrow," she reminded him as she disappeared through the hole in the ceiling.

The noise of solitude filled the cell once more as the door locked and as the footsteps faded into nothingness.

Harper stared at his Beka stain as he resumed his normal position, but this time he was free from tremors or rocking. He stared at the stain all night in order to keep away the nightmares he knew would come with sleep. Nightmares that had previously been locked away deep in his mind, nightmares that now wanted to come out to play. Silently he calculated how many nights he would be able to go before he would have to face the monstrous sandman and the past horrors his slumber would bring.

**********

Over the next five days, Harper had many visitors. Everyone came to see him, to talk, spend time with him and let him know how much they wanted him back. Sometimes they were successful on that mission, other times Harper simply shut them out.

Talking to Harper was beginning to be like playing Russian roulette. Which personality would they get this minute? Would it be the silent sullen Harper or the open-almost-back-to-normal Harper or, if unlucky, it could be the violent paranoid Harper. Unfortunately for Dylan, he got to see the latter Harper the most.

Tyr and Rommie had finally made their way to his cell, each bringing food and water every time. Rommie even tried to clean the filthy boy one day but was greeted with a violent jerk back and a horrifying scream of "don't touch me", followed by frantic rocking that lasted long after she had to leave. Tyr had tried to wash the cell, more so for his own heightened sense of smell than for Harper's well-being...or so he said. But the second the wet rag even neared that special stain, Harper freaked out and kicked the large Nietzschean out of the very small cell. Tyr left the cell worrying about the boy's sanity as he overheard Harper whispering alone in his cell. "You ok Bek? That stupid uber didn't hurt you, did he?" 

Four days after Harper had shared his painful past with Beka, the sandman hadn't won the battle against Harper's will. On the morning of the fourth day, Trance showed up bright and early, all alone with only a large basket by her side. She crawled down into the cell with him as the disgruntled warden locked them in. The warden then walked over to the next corridor to wait for that strange golden alien to call for him. Thanks to this kludge he was having to actually work now and his porn collection in his office was quickly collecting a thick layer of dust.

Opening up the basket, Trance pulled out all of Harper's favorite foods, several Sparkies, a nice clean red and white checkered sheet and some fresh candles. Within seconds, the cell was transformed into a romantic picnic for two. Harper's stomach was getting used to the idea of visitors again and ate hardily. After all the food was gone, the golden alien managed to weasel her way next to Harper and pulled his head into her lap. She fiddled with his filthy hair and picked out any lice she found. Minutes later Harper felt a warm sensation fill his being as his eyelids grew heavier until the weight was too much and darkness enveloped him. As a light golden glow illuminated around Trance's hands on Harper's head, Harper found himself falling into a much needed dreamless slumber and found his allusive serenity in the darkness.

But that next morning everything changed. In the middle of the previous night, Dylan received an urgent message from one of the Perseids' colonies. Apparently the Pythos' new Alpha was having a grand old time at the poor intellectuals expense. The situation was quickly spiraling out of control and the most powerful warship in the universe was badly needed. The crew of Andromeda had to head out that day before any more people suffered under the cruel hands of the Pythos.

That fateful morning, Harper sat alone in his cell, staring at his toes as he wiggled them back and forth. He was calculating the speed of each toe and then the time it would take each of them to race around his cell. So far his right big toe was the undefeated champion. His calculations for the big Cell 500 Circuit race were rudely interrupted by the sound of a stamped of footsteps heading his way. Two, three, five, eight....yes, eight pairs of boots were nearing his cell. 'This cannot be good,' he panicked.

The door clicked loudly and hissed open and Dylan's boots appeared in the cell. Now used to the smell and confinement of Harper's home, Dylan only flinched slightly upon entrance.

"Mr. Harper," he said as he squatted down in the most comfortable position a man of his size could in that small of a space. "Um...you knew the time would come when we would have to leave, right?"

Harper nodded.

"Well, unfortunately, its come a lot sooner than I had hoped. We have to help the Perseids with a slight Pythos infestation. I'm sorry." Dylan looked at his boots as he cursed himself for what Duty was forcing him to do. "I wanted to bring you a change of clothes, some blankets and some other supplies, but the lovely warden forbid us from leave anything with you...jail policy and all. I'm really sorry for that too."

"It's okay," Harper whispered. He still didn't feel he deserved any of those things anyways.

"No, it's not okay Harper! You should at least get clothing without bloodstains and holes in them...at least that." He paused as he forced his emotions back down deep inside him where they belonged. "We have to leave now. Everyone is here to say goodbye but we will be back to see you as soon as we can. Do you understand that?"

"Mm-uh," Harper muttered as an affirmative, his eyes still locked on his toes.

"No Harper, look at me."

Slowly he raised his head up to look towards the crouching crisp clean captain. He looked so out of place amongst the filth of the walls and floor. Almost like a hologram.

"Now look in my eyes."

This Harper found much more difficult. Every time his eyes found Dylan's black pupils, all he could see was the reflection of himself begging Dylan to stop hitting him. Finally Harper's eyes settled on Dylan's eyebrows which seemed to satisfy the captain.

"Now listen...we will come back, we will not abandon you Seamus Harper. You have to remember that while we are gone, okay? So repeat after me...'We will come back.'"

A pause. "We will come back," mocked Harper.

"Mr. Harper..." Dylan warned.

Sighing, the blonde gave in. "Fine, you will come back."

"That's the best I'm gonna get from you, isn't it?"

"Yep."

"Ok, I'll take it. And Mr. Harper, if any of those goons up there, the warden or the guards, abuse you in any way, if they don't give you proper food like I've arranged, then I need you to tell us okay. Can you promise me you'll do that?"

Harper nodded.

"Say it."

"I promise."

"Good." Dylan inched forward but, as always, Harper inched an equally distance back. Not wanting to force the issue, Dylan returned to his previous location. "Uh, Harper, you survive, ok, and remember how much we need you and that we will be coming back soon."

Again, the condemned man simply nodded as Dylan looked on with regret so large that it could fill the whole of Andromeda.

Without another word, Dylan hopped out of the cell and was replaced by the much more pleasing form of Rommie.

The same conversation occurred again and then again with Trance and then with Tyr. Though Tyr's did involve the Nietzschean promising to seriously disable any prison employee who might lay a hand on the engineer. A small smile crept into Harper's lips as Tyr explained vividly what he had planned.

Beka was the last to drop down into the cell. She quickly rushed over and pulled Harper into a hug before he even had the chance to pull away.

"I can stay here, you know," she whispered into his ear as she kept her embrace locked firmly around his bony body.

Deciding to enjoy his last piece of comfort, Harper hugged back. "I know, but you can't," he whispered back. "You're needed on the Andromeda and you'd go crazy staying in a boring place like this drift."

"True," Beka choked out sadly. She pulled back from the embrace and took Harper's face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. "Listen sport, you hang in there ok. We both know you can get through this but I want you to get through this with your sanity intact. I need my Seamus back, okay?"

Harper nodded with difficulty as she still held his face. He looked at her and saw the tears building up behind her eyes and the wrinkles forming on her chin as she struggled to keep her emotions in cheek.

"Damn it, I wasn't going to cry," she cursed.

Harper wiped away a stray tear and replaced it with a smug of dirt on her clean face. "I'll be okay. It will be a piece of cake. Look, I have free range of movement." He waved his arms around. "And there are no torture instruments lining the walls and I even have a lovely skylight." He gestured up to the grated ceiling. "And, you'll be coming back. Really Beka, I can do this, I'll be fine. Now you go and save the chin heads and kick some Pytho ass for me. 'Kay?" 

Sniffling, Beka forced her tears back down. Harper was being so strong and she need to do the same for him. "Okay. You just better be here when we come back. I don't wanna be greeted by that quite lost stranger we found here earlier."

Harper nodded as he too had to force down his own tears which wanted to come out and play with Beka's. "Go now..." He pushed her away as he felt control slipping from his grasp.

Taking one last long look at her Seamus, Beka got up to leave the cell. She got as far as the opening before she suddenly turned around and rushed back to Harper for one last embrace. "Just remember that I love you Seamus Harper and that I always will." With that said, she let him go and quickly disappeared through opened hatch.

The door hissed closed and locked as the parade of feet marched away with the dragging sadness of a funeral precession.

And Seamus Harper was alone again.

The solitude didn't last too long as soon another smaller group of foot steps approached his cell. Looking up, Harper saw exactly what his years living under uber control had taught him to expect. 

The warden and two large guards stood over his cell looking down at him with a bloodlust angry look that only ubers could pull off. Each had a different instrument of pain grasped in their ugly fat fists. A whip, a club and, oh joy, a taser device.

"You think you're special, do you kludge?" The warden's raspy voice spat out as he let the club fall repeatedly into his open palm. "Special Commonwealth kludge, with special privileges. Well, we'll show you how special you truly are." A evil grin grew on his snarling face as Harper's only line of protection betrayed him by hissing open.

Boot appeared on the floor in front of Harper, followed by the guard's ugly face and then a large hairy bonebladed arm which reached forward and grabbed a handful of Harper's shirt.

"It's play time boy." The guard grinned as he yanked Harper away from his corner, away from his Beka stain and up into the painful light above.

TBC......


	36. Chapter 36 & Epilogue

A/N: Well, guys, this is it. The last update for Survival Instincts. I hoped you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for all the kind reviews! They really do make my day...heck, week even. Shutting up now so you can read.;)

Chapter 36

The snickering of the guards fell away as the cell floor rushed up towards him. He hit the cold barren floor hard, aggravating his already broken ribs. Harper peered up at the intimidating ubers standing above his cell. He had to squint through his swollen black eye to see them grinning with glee at the bloody mess they made of the weak captured kludge - my, how brave and fearless they must be. Harper gave them his best evil eye before he had to spit up some of his life fluid on the floor. They answered by slamming the hatch shut and sauntering away. From the distance, Harper could just make out their voices. "Did you see the look in his eyes when I tasered his dataport!? Oh man, that was a classic!" Uproarious laughter filled the cell block.

It had only been a week since the crew had left him and this had been the routine for every day of that week. The ubers came for him, took him up above and played with him until they were bored. The best times for Harper was when they whipped him. Harper's sick manically laughter got louder with each numb strike against his back and with each frustrated grunt from the annoyed warden. What the poor ignorant ubers didn't know was that they were last in line on the torture of Seamus Harper. Due to all the previous clients, all Harper could feel of the whip was the nice breeze it created by his face. He laughed harder every day they tried.

Harper cradled his aching ribs and stomach as he rose to his knees. His comfy corner looked so far away. He imagined himself having to cross a great desert, then a mighty raging river just to reach that dark shadowed corner. It was too far for his aching body so he resigned himself to his current location.

He painstakingly turned on his back and laid diagonally across the tiny cell. His toes rested up against the cool wall as his head leaned up against the crook of his corner. The coolness of the metal floor acted as an ice pack for all his wounds, even the ones he couldn't feel. As he felt the iciness on his bruised arms, he realized he was collecting more scars from these amateurish torturers, but after a second of thought he accepted that it didn't bother him so much. What were a few more scars when you were already covered in them?

Harper laid back and watched the dust particles float in the few light beams that broke through the grated ceiling. He watched the specks danced around and sparkled as if they dreamed of being stars one day. Bright, giant, powerful stars. He could relate to those tiny dust particles.

He laid there and waited, waited for the next day to come and waited to see the shinny faces of the ubers to greet him good morning. Laying there all night, he just watched the wanna-be stars danced in their tiny universe. He didn't even sleep anymore. He couldn't face the nightmares of slumber, not when they were beginning to chase him down during his waking hours as well. 

The next morning never came as time forgot about Seamus Harper. The ubers never showed their ugly faces, Harper was never dragged out his cell, and never beaten. He was simply forgotten about. As time stretched on, he realized the warden was smarter than he seemed. They hadn't forgotten about him, they were protecting themselves from both their pride and the Commonwealth. They knew no one could find out about their sessions with him, and they knew he couldn't tell anyone. The second they found out he snitched they would kill him or make him wish he was dead. 

Right now the timeless nothingness was making him wish the same thing. He'd shift positions a few times, have a few conversations with Stain Beka, calculate new theories on everything from weapons, to the new art of toe racing, and to quantum mechanics and dark matter. Excitement over all his new inventions he came up with kept his mind off of the demonic sandman that had finally managed to track him down. Sleep overtook him and his nightmarish past roared into his consciousness. His voice was getting horse from waking up screaming all the time.

There was one event that was the highlight of his day, if they were days, they might have been the highlight of his week for all Harper knew. The event was feeding time. Guards would stroll by, pour down a cup of water into the cells, and throw down crumbs of stale bread. Harper was indeed getting the special treatment Dylan had demanded. His bread had more protein in it than before, of course that protean was in the form of mold and fungus. Gotta love uber logic.

Sitting in his corner, Harper was calculating pie when it hit him. This really wasn't too bad. The ubers left him alone, he wasn't being chased around the galaxy by mad men trying to kill him, there were no magog around for light years and he wasn't having to hunt down dirty rats and eat them raw to survive. Prison life was good. Plus he got all the peace and quite he wanted, couldn't get that on the Andromeda. "See Beka, piece of cake," he smirked to Stain Beka. The smirk transformed into a smile as he saw her wink at him.

One day, if it was a day, maybe it was night, Harper jerked awake. But this time it he didn't wake up screaming from his past, but rather from a sound which roused him from his slumber. A familiar sound that he truly never thought he would ever hear again.

A stampede of footsteps heading towards his little corner of life.

He stared up in wonder at the soon to be filled view above.

They came back for him...they actually came back.

Thoughts flew through his mind: Were they here to take him home? Had it been a year? Where they here to tell him they weren't coming back? That he hurt them too much? That they wanted to kill him?

His fingers found the tattered edge of his pants legs and began to fidget furiously. His eyes never leaving the still empty view above.

Finally, after an eternity, the hatch hissed open and for a second a blonde blur appeared above him. He blinked. Feet landed before him and within seconds there crouched down in front of him was the embodiment of Stain Beka. No. Harper shook his head. It was the real Beka. 

"We're baaaack," she charmed as she raced over towards him. Well as much racing as one can do in a three foot cell if one is not a toe.

Harper, still unsure of what their intention was, quickly scurried farther back into his corner, pushing his back up against the wall, trying desperately to phase through the solid metal.

Noticing Harper's deer trapped in headlight look, Beka quickly backtracked. "Hey, Seamus, it's me, Beka. Remember? Come on, it's only been a month...please remember...please."

He stared into her face, her eyes held such a sadness mixed with a pinch of hope. Her voice from the past spoke to his mind. 'I don't wanna be greeted by that quite lost stranger we found here earlier.' 'Just remember that I love you Seamus Harper and that I always will.' He desperately shoveled through the overwhelming emotions that piled up in his mind. The panic he saw growing in Beka's eyes made him shovel faster.

"Come on Shorty. Please don't do this to me...please don't be gone again...p-please..." Tears cut off her begging.

Harper kept shoveling and staring. He watched as the first tear slowly rolled down the smooth line of her face and fell the hard ground below. The tear hit the ground with an overpowering roar that toppled down Harper's emotional trash pile. The shovel fell from his hands as the roar had cleared away all that he didn't need to see or feel. All he saw now was his Beka in pain and he knew what to do.

Jumping up from his corner, he rushed Beka and enveloped her in a giant Harper hug. "Beka, shhh, don't cry," he whispered in her ear. But Beka didn't listen to him as he felt his shoulder getting wetter and wetter. Quickly he pulled back so he could see her face, his hands never letting go of her trembling shoulders. He was shocked at what he saw.

Under the tearing eyes lived a huge glowing smile that lit up Beka's gorgeous features. Even with a redden runny nose and swollen watering eyes, that smile made her look like a goddess. "Oh Harper!" She screamed as she pulled him back into a tight hug.

The hug never ended as Beka maneuvered next to him, making sure to always keep one arm around her engineer as to not loose him in the giant cell they occupied. During her visit, Beka regaled Harper with their short battle with the Pythos and of the bizarre ending. Apparently the new alpha held Andromeda in great respect for allowing him to rise to power. He never did like Galaver, annoying twit was how he described him, and was grateful that the man no longer wasted any precious oxygen. With their joint hate, Dylan easily negotiated a seize fire using the one favor the new alpha said he owned them. The Nietzschean was quite confused as to why they would want to use that favor to free a world full of annoying intellects but he just excepted it as kludge stupidity as he piloted his fleet off to some other poor planet to bully. Beka told Harper that afterwards the Perseids were so grateful that they lent the Andromeda a whole engineering team to help while Harper was, as the chin heads put it, indisposed. Harper howled at Beka's response to having a handful of chin heads roaming the ship day and night. At least he knew his job wasn't in jeopardy.

Knowing that there were four other people standing up above them that wanted to see Harper, Beka kept her visit short. "We'll be here all week. We figure we'd each spend a day with you alone, you know bonding time. I'll be here bright and early tomorrow morning." She smiled. "Is that okay?"

Still being much quieter than he used to be, Harper simply nodded. 

A look of worry flashed across Beka's face at the silent answer, but she quickly covered it up. "Good." She looked longingly at her absent little brother. "Oh, Harper I've missed you so much." She pulled him into a hug one last time before she jumped up and vanished through the hole above.

The rest of the crew came down to see him one by one. During the whole day, Harper could hear the ubers up above sighing with annoyance and could hear their feet constantly shifting under their mass of bored weight. Harper could already feel the next shocks from the taser burning through his body. 

Up above Tyr looked on in his normal stoic manner, taking in every tiny detail from the antsy fidgeting of the annoyed guards to the busies that lined their fists. Walking through the prison, Tyr had taken a good look at the other prisoners and noted the majority had fresh ugly bruises. 'If they touched Harper...' Tyr growled in his mind as his fists tightened and his bone blades quivered with anger.

Tyr's rage was interrupted when a medical bag was tossed out of the cell only to be followed by one mysterious golden alien. "Well, he's now loaded with nanobots and medicine galore, but his stomach may still be on the empty side." She tossed Dylan the bag of food they brought for him. Dylan frowned as he felt the weight of the bag. Almost nothing was missing. "He only ate half a sandwich if you were wondering." Trance gave Dylan a sympathetic look.

"I'm sure he'll come around," Dylan said trying to comfort everyone including himself. He then turned to Tyr who was scowling behind him as always. "Your turn, that is if you want."

Tyr marched past Dylan while staring the equally large man down, and hopped down into the rakish cell. 

Harper was in his corner still looking as pathetic as ever. "Mr. Harper," Tyr acknowledged.

Harper nodded in response and forced a small smile on his otherwise miserable face.

Tyr squatted down and took in the whole experience in hopes of understanding what the human's life had been like this past month. One glaring detail caught his intuitive eye almost immediately. "I see they are treating you well," he said in a monotone as he contractively pointed out the new blood stains on Harper's tattered sleeve.

The human's eyes widened in panic as he glanced down at the clue that gave his hell away. Quickly he covered up the bloody stains with his other arm which unfortunately had even more blood stains on it. Looking down, Harper saw his flawed cover up effort. "Typical," he whispered.

"They are dead men," Tyr growled in a hushed voice as he closed in on Harper in order to keep any certain soon to be dead ubers from overhearing.

Harper grabbed Tyr's nearby arm. "No, please, don't."

Tyr looked questionably at the hurt man before him. "Boy, what's wrong with you. They hurt you and I'm just going to politely inform them what happens when commit such an act."

"No, please." Harper stared at Tyr with such a powerful look that words could not describe. His eyes were doing the talking this time. "I can take it," he whispered with his jaw clenched, his eyes never blinking as they continued to speak to Tyr.

And Tyr heard loud and clear. He knew what Harper meant. The boy would be in for a world of hurt or possibly death before they could get him out or get a change of guards. He looked back at the survivor that crouched before him. 'That boy has Nietzschean blood in him.' Stoically Tyr nodded in reply, but internally he was wearing a proud smile. "I understand, but you need to understand that they will get what's coming to them, in say, a little under a year." He winked and gave a small sample of his evil I-love-pain grin.

Somehow, that grin magically jumped the space in-between the two men and appeared on Harper's face. "I like your thinking," he whispered back.

The Kodak stayed down in the cell a bit longer telling Harper exactly how annoy a group of Perseids can really be and how the magnificent Hunt keeps flying them into danger at every opportunity. After the stories were told and Tyr got a laugh or two out of the depressed man, he patted Harper on the shoulder. "You are a survivor Seamus Zealanzy Harper." He flashed as rare true smile and, like all the others, vanished through the temporary opening above.

***********

The week passed quickly for all sides and before Harper knew it his friends were gone and a nice heavy club was smashing into his ribs. He tasted the rich coppery blood flowing into his mouth and he smiled. All he could see was the fear in the ubers' faces as Tyr Anasazi strolled up to them with that evil grin and that same bloody club resting leisurely over his broad shoulder.

***********

It had been a long two months for the Andromeda crew: Signing up new member worlds, breaking up squabbles, stopping a civil war, trying not to kill the Perseids engineers, and getting on with life with a missing family member. Moral was down and they were all in desperate need for some well deserved R&R. So they ended up going to the only place they knew they would be able to find some inner peace: To that dank dirty cell of Seamus Harper.

Just like last visit they all stormed his cell the first day and then had one on one day visits. Today was a certain golden warrior's day who was currently racing through the early morning crowds on the drift. She grasped her two bags tightly to her chest as she squeezed in between the two large participants of an active fist fight. Their fight interrupted, the two men looked on with confusion at the golden women who ran off into crowd, politely saying, "Excuse me," to everyone she pushed aside.

After much weaving and bumping, she reached the ominous prison's doors and waited for the guard to open the jail for visitors. A large guard and the warden came to escort her to Harper's home to be locked away together for the day.

"Hi ya Harper!" She chirped all too cheerful for such a dreary place.

"Hey," he mumbled. 

Trace smiled with joy at the improvement from the silent nod she got two months ago. "I brought you food, water, and shots, lots and lots of shots. I thought I'd also see how your arm and data port are doing...that is if you don't mind." 

"'s okay," he muttered to his bare feet. 

Trance look on, her smile now gone. If it was possible, he seemed to be getting dirtier and thinner. A dry hacking cough interrupted Trance's inspection of him. "That doesn't sound good. Can I come closer to take a look?" She knew how Harper was reacting to unwelcome contact. It seemed only Beka could really get close to him. Everyone else received a hasty jerking away or a violent attack. Poor Dylan was mostly receiving the latter.

Harper's unsure eyes scanned his golden cellmate. She could see his thoughts and emotions being sorted out behind his soft blue eyes and her heart jumped with joy as he made his decision in a small affirmative nod.

"Thanks." Trance moved next to Harper, taking a position on her knees and pulled out a scanner from her medical bag. "This won't hurt a bit." She smiled to him reassuringly.

More painful coughs were Harper's responses.

In silence, Trance took her scans and looked over the results. The broken ribs that were almost healed must be causing him great pain during the coughing fits. The coughing fits themselves looked to be the start of pneumonia. His new arm bone was adjusting nicely to its new home. In a twist of irony, his data port was still in need of many more months of healing before he could jack in again. Luckily, he was in the perfect place for that situation - not a data port jack in site. The remaining maladies were what were expected; Malnourishment, atrophying muscles, and half a dozen bacterial infections that covered every inch of his skin.

"Done yet?" Harper asked quietly as he eyed the scanner with a great sense of distrust.

"Yah, all done."

"And?"

"You're gonna live."

"Great." His reply was dripping with sarcasm, way too much for Trance's liking.

"Ahh, come on Harper. Look. I got some things to cheer you up. Some food and..." She pulled out a glimmering can from her bag. "Sparky!" Her hands displayed the aluminum can as if it was a high priced piece of art.

A half grin grew across Harper's face.

"Drink up!" She tossed him the cola of his dreams.

Greedily he cracked open the can and started chugging. The sweet, bubbly liquid of the gods danced over his tongue and down his sore throat. Trance could almost see him begin to glow as the caffeine and sugar forced their way into his bloodstream.

He finished sucking dry every last drop of the sweet liquid and glanced at Trance. "You said you had food?" Harper asked almost hopeful. His voice grew in strength as his favorite cola seemed to have reawaken some part of him.

"Sure do." Trance smiled and tossed Harper the bag full of tasty foods. 

Harper tore into the bag and began shoveling food into his mouth. 

"Are they feeding you all right?" Trance asked suspiciously as a piece of onion flew up and hit her in the nose. The flying scrap of food originated from the garbage disposal that was Seamus Harper.

"Yah...mmmm....great..." He mumbled through a mouthful of food.

Her questioning face remained on him as seconds later he finished off the last crumb. The last crumb of a bag that held enough food for five large meals. Trance shook off her gaze and moved next to him as she held up a fist full of needles. A playful evil grin grew across her face. "Shot time."

Rolling his eyes and then his sleeve, Harper thrust is arm out towards her. "Please be kind." He turned his head away and closed his eyes.

Trance snickered at his overly dramatic acting and gently took hold of his arm. The second her delicate fingers wrapped around his twig of an arm, she knew she made a horrible mistake. Harper's muscles, what were left of them, began to twitch violently under her loose grip. His pulse quickened and the distinct odor of sweat and fear arose from his body.

Trance knew his mind was quickly getting lost in the past and saw him desperately trying to fight the urge to flee into himself. She only loosened her grip on his arm, allowing him to try to overcome his fear...his fear of her. "I know what you're thinking Harper and I'm still so sorry for...for..." She took a deep breath. "For breaking your arm. I promise these needles won't hurt too much and they will help you. Are you ok? Can you do this?" Her heart was breaking as she saw how much pain her touch caused him.

Harper took a deep trembling breath with his head still turned and eyes still closed. "I-I can. I know you don't mean to hurt me...it's just, well, flashbacks ya know. They get overwhelming sometimes and it gets hard to tell what's what." He turned his head to look at Trance, his eyes glistening in unshed tears from the past. "I'm okay Trance. Go on, load me up with those healing drugs." He flashed her a brave half smile.

Trance nodded and began to inject needle after needle. Minutes later she was done. Placing the medicine aside, she curled up next to Harper and rested her head on his shoulder. "You know Harper, when the flashbacks get too overwhelming, you always have us to call on to help you straighten your head out or pull you back into the present."

"I know."

"Good," Trance said as she stared across the cell at the far wall. She twisted her head and squinted her eyes. "Hey, Harper."

"Yah?"

"Did you know that that stain over there kinda looks like Beka?"

Harper didn't respond verbally, but his face said it all. If Trance had been looking at him, she would have been witness to a blessed event: The return of Harper's true glowing smile.

**************

Beka stood at the menacing prison doors as they rose up before her like a towering grave stone. She could hear Harper's desperate cries for help coming from the other side. She could hear him pounding and clawing at the impassable barrier that separated them. Slowly she could make out Harper's name and death date rise from the smooth metal of the doors turned grave marker.

Then she blinked and her mind returned to the real world. She still stood before the prison entrance, but Harper's desperate clawing and screams for help only remained as distance echoes in her mind. "Get a grip Valentine," she muttered to herself as she forced her arm forward to push open the heavy door.

It had been two more months away from Harper, five months total. Halfway there she kept reminding herself. Harper's improvement was making his absent only slightly bearable. Somehow, even in that hell hole, Harper was beginning to find himself. She could have sworn that the other day, when they all arrived, she saw a glimmer of his patented sparkle in his deep blue eyes. That boy continued to amaze her.

Like every other time, she was lead by a grumpy guard to the tiny hole and locked in with Harper. She looked at the disheveled human before her and did indeed see a faint sparkle dancing around in the otherwise darkened void of his eyes. It was faint, but it was there.

"Hey there Sport!"

"Hey Beka." He tried to force joy into his voice but apparently joy was hard to acquire in a place like this. "And before you ask, I'm doing fine." Harper gave her a smirk. "I'd thought I'd save you the trouble this time."

Beka had to smile. Every time she saw him, the first few minutes of the conversation always went the same way. A greeting, followed by her asking how he was doing, followed by him lying to her, followed by a few minutes of awkward silence.

She continued to eye over her friend as an expression of confusion crossed her face.

"What?" he asked concerned.

"I don't have anything to say now that you usurped my line," she pouted playfully.

"Usurped huh?" he asked in a light laugh. "I think you've been hanging with Tyr too much."

Beka laughed back as she assumed her normal position for her visits; curled up right next to Harper with a strong arm wrapped around his increasingly tiny frame. 

Harper leaned into her. "Um..." He hesitantly spoke.

"Yes?"

"How's Dylan doing?" He cocked his head to look up at her with his weary sleep deprived eyes. Nightmares were still haunting him both day and night. He shared some with her, hoping by talking about them he would be rid of them, but it never worked. Beka just watched the bags under his eyes grow and grow until she seriously considered knocking him out by brute force just so he could get some shut eye. 

Shaking her gaze away from those haunting eyes, her mind returned to Harper's question about Dylan's well-being. "He's doing fine. Nanobots are healing his nose and ribs and that black eye you gave him is fading fast."

He looked down in shame at the report of the damage he had done. Every time Dylan's visiting day came up, the captain would return early to the Andromeda with various new injuries. To Harper, there was just something so punch-able about Dylan. "Tell him I'm sorry, okay?"

Beka pulled Harper closer. "I'll tell him, but I'm sure he knows." Looking down at the small human beside her, she couldn't believe what he had done. He looked so vulnerable with his knees curled tightly to his small chest and with his innocent baby-like face, but yet she had seen what he had been able to do to Dylan and others, all much larger and stronger than himself. If she lived for hundreds of years, she knew she would never be able to understand the dichotomy that was Seamus Harper...and it was that mystery that was keeping her up at nights. "Um, can I ask you something...you don't have to answer it if you don't want to." 

He gazed questionably up at her through his now long forest of bangs. "Um...okay, what is it?"

"Um..." She paused as she reconsidered even asking him the question that had been tearing her apart since she first saw what he was capable of. No, she had to know. She had to know just how much Harper had betrayed her. "How come you never let us know about your other side? The kick ass violent side that could have saved our asses dozens of times in the past. Why did you hold back?"

Harper's shaggy head dropped again in shame. "I was afraid you'd ask that one day."

"You don't have to answer."

"No, I will, you deserve to know why I betrayed you." Harper read her mind. "That side of me, the violent side, well, it's not really controllable. More of a reflex. As long as I know there is someone else that can protect me, I used them...I used you, as a shield." He fingered his torn pants. "The truth is that I'm just a coward. I survive by letting everyone I love die for me when...when...I could have saved them."

Beka was stunned into silence. This was not what she wanted to hear. Her embrace loosened around Harper.

Harper continued on alone and in pain. "I could have saved them, b-but I didn't 'cause I was too scared. Scared of what I become when I turn violent. It's like a wild beast takes over, a beast that I'm so terrified of what it's capable of that I try hard to forget that it's even in me." He swallowed down the sobs that he didn't deserve to shed. "I'm sorry Beka, sorry for using you, for lying to you, for not protecting you when I should have. I'd understand if you just get up and walk away leaving me here where I belong...where a cowardice monster like me should die."

The pain in Harper's words cut through Beka's sense of betrayal. He was punishing himself more that she ever could. She quickly spun Harper's body to face hers and took hold of his now very furry chin. Forcing his face upward, she looked deeply into his sorrowed eyes. "Listen you. I will never leave you and for the last time, you don't belong here. Everything you did, you did to survive and unfortunately you've had to fight for survival your whole life. Of course your mind will come up with a way to live, it's how things work. Hell, just ask Tyr." She smiled. "Honestly, if your violent side is all or nothing, I'm perfectly happy with good old wimpy nerd Harper over scary ninja Harper any day. You can hid behind me as much as you want Kiddo." She hugged him tightly. "One thing though..."

"Uh-huh." He mumbled into her shoulder.

"Will you please stop beating up on our wimpy captain. I know he deserves a good smack in the face every once in a while but the poor guy can't take much more."

Harper looked up at Beka's smiling face and did the best to copy her expression. "Sure thing Boss."

**********

Two months later, Dylan hobbled into medical. His bloody and bruised appearance interrupted Trance mid-conversation with her visitor. "DYLAN!" She shouted out as she raced over to help him reach the safety of the medical bed.

Gingerly settling on the soft mattress, Dylan let out a groan.

"I take it Harper wasn't too happy to see you again?" Trance asked as she gently probed Dylan's obviously broken arm.

"Seven months Trance. Seven months and he still can't stand the sight of me." Depression filled his voice. "And it was going so well this time until I stupidly moved too close to him. I just had to push for those few extra inches...god I'm an idiot."

Trance's silent visitor stepped forward. "All he needs is time Dylan." A fury clawed hand reached out to comfort Dylan's shoulder.

The captain looked into the wise eyes in front of him and found serenity. "Thanks Rev," he smiled. "It's so good to have you back on board, even if you are just visiting."

"It's my pleasure," he bowed. "I just wish my path allowed me to stay onboard." He said with much regret. His mind was still troubled and lost and there was much soul searching he needed to complete before he could come back to the life he once knew. But first, he had a few issues that had to be resolved with a certain incarcerated engineer.

The next day, Rev's found himself following a terrified guard who was leading him to that engineer. The foul air that saturated the prison which made most want to run in fear was like an erotic perfume that called out to Rev. He licked his lips and sniffed the sweet fear induced aroma of the guard in front of him. Rev allowed himself a snicker as the large Nietzschean quickened his pace. 

As the grated door clicked closed above him, Rev found himself face to face with a familiar stranger. "Master Harper." He bowed as much as the confined space would allow before he took his spot in the visitor corner. "The beard and longer hair suits you." Rev joked hoping to rid Harper of the shocked stare he was currently locked in. 

The fear fell off of Harper's face only to be replaced by shame as he dropped his head. "R-R-Rev...I'm so sorry...for what I-I did..." He slinked back farther into the shadows of his corner as if space was too good for him.

"Master Harper, there is no need to apologize. My head is hard and you were understandable scared and desperate. No harm was done." He eyed the mess before him. "To me at least. I see your path has lead you through some painful thorn bushes. How are you holding up?"

"'m okay," Harper replied still not able to raise his head.

"Sure you are." Rev looked over the pathetic human before him and was shocked to realize he looked even worse off than the last time he saw the troubled man. "Can I do anything for you?"

The mop of dirty blonde hair shook from side to side.

Allowing Harper to set the pace, Rev took up a lotus position and began to fill the cell with the music of a guttural chant which rose up and spread throughout the entire cell block above.

Hours passed as the soothing music reverberated around the perfect acoustics of the cell. Slowly, almost as slow as an inch an hour, Harper's head began to rise as curiosity overtook his sense of shame. Puzzlement began to grow on Harper's face as the hours passed without any sense of anger or need for revenge showing themselves in Rev's actions.

Rev felt Harper's stare on his being and stopped his chanting. "Would you like me to teach you this? It could help you find some peace or at least help pass the time."

Harper mulled over the offer as he chewed his chapped lip. Finally he gave a small nod.

Rev smiled and shifted his body to occupy the center of one side of the cell. "Face me," he said quietly.

Harper ordered his stiff aching body away from his corner and out into the terrifying openness of the cell. He copied Rev's lotus position as best as his weakened body would allow. A burning sensation rush over his unused muscles.

"Good, now breath in rapidly and then slowly let the air out. As we breath out, repeat after me. Focus only on the breathing and sounds." Rev began chanting as Harper tried to copy the mystical sounds Rev produced.

As the chanting continued a strange sense of calm overtook the cell. A sense that the bloody walls and urine stained floors had never experienced. A sense that consumed Harper and his demons to such an extent that they found themselves chanting together in a circle of peace in his mind, creating a harmony that would have made the Vedran Choir weep with envy.

*************

Dylan sat staring in terror at Harper's cold unmoving eyes. He could see Harper mulling over thought after thought. What filled Dylan with such terror was what exactly those mystery thoughts might be. Whatever they were, he figured they all involved pain and lots of it.

The captain's broken arm from the last visit had now healed nicely over the past two months. This time Trance already had medical set up for Dylan's return to Andromeda. As Dylan continued to stare into Harper's blank face, he had a momentary hopeful thought that maybe this time he wouldn't be visiting medical at all. It had already been four hours with no yelling, no pain, no sudden mood changes, nothing...literally. Not a word had been spoken after the normal hello, a responding grunt, Dylan's routine apology, followed by anther grunt...oh the intellectual conversations they had!

Dylan shifted his weight off of his sleeping leg as pins and needles danced on his calf. Not thinking, he stretched his long legs out in front of him. Legs long enough that they crossed over into Harper's side of the cell. Only a few inches stood between Dylan's boots and Harper's bare feet.

Both men stopped breathing as they noticed Dylan's faux pas. The captain was about to jerk his legs back when he realized Harper was not leaping at his throat. In fact, Harper hadn't even moved, well besides a slight tightening of his arms around his legs. He just stood his ground as he focused on calming his rapid breaths. His eyes were locked onto Dylan's as his dry lips began to move, seemingly mumbling something. Dylan listened intently as he tried to make out what Harper was saying, but they weren't words, they were sounds.

A smile grew in Dylan's mind as he recognized the quiet sounds coming out of Harper's throat. It's was the same chanting he heard from Rev's guest quarters two months ago. Realizing Harper was controlling himself, Dylan let his outstretched legs relax and even let his toes drop down leaving only a millimeter between himself and Harper.

And still no flying fists, no chokeholds, no screaming, just quite peaceful guttural chanting.

Dylan let his mental smile break free from his mind and flow onto his face. On the other side of the dark cell, the source of the chanting saw Dylan's eyes light up from that hopeful grin. The cell grew quite as the chants stopped. Breathing and heartbeats stopped as unsure tension replaced the peaceful sound. Then Harper blinked and returned Dylan's smile with one of his very own.

Light finally found its place in the dark hole.

**************

Rommie's button nose wrinkled with disgust as she entered Harper's cell. "Hey there," she greeted him cheerfully as she tried to ignore her sensory reports.

"Hey," Harper responded back. 

Rommie grinned as she calculated that his greeting was 15% more cheerful than his last greeting two months ago. "Doing better?" 

Harper nodded. "Yah, a bit. The nightmares are letting up a bit and those annoying invisible Nightsiders are popping up with less and less frequency." His face was locked in seriousness.

Concern flashed onto Rommie's perfect features.

A joyous laughter filled the cell. "Just kidding Rom-doll, no invisible Nightsiders here."

"Not funny Harper."

"Sorry," he flashed her his "I'm innocent" grin. "Got any food and yummy H2O?"

"Yep, and something else. That is if you are willing." She watched him eye her suspiciously as she could see his mind diving deeply into the gutter. "And no, not that."

"Damn," he pouted.

"As you know, you are coming back on board me in a month and well, frankly Harper, you are disgusting. As much as I want you back, I don't want all your filth and infestations in me. So I was thinking a sponge bath was in order."

A year ago this would have been Harper's dream come true. He would have had fainted from the anticipation and pure joy at that thought, but today, in that cell, he responded was silent nervous fidgeting.

Rommie noted his hesitation. "If you want I can delete all memory of it and we can clean small sections at a time so you're not completely exposed. Come on Harper, it won't be that bad." 

He shifted nervously. "What's the point? I mean, I'm still stuck in here for a month. That's more than enough time for me and this hell hole to contaminate any clean surface. It would be a waste of time."

Rommie moved up next to Harper and rested her hand on his dropped shoulder. "It would not be a waste. You'd feel like a human being again Harper. Free of the dirt and grime of the past year. It will remind you of what your future holds, that there is a light at the end of the tunnel and that it's getting brighter by the minute." She looked at his still hesitant face and knew how to make him willing. "If you won't do this for yourself, will you at least do it for me? I need to see my Harper again, spikes and all."

He stopped squirming and look into the beautiful face he had created. "Only for you," he whispered. "And that was a cheap shot." He added in bitterness at being played by his own invention.

"I know." She gave an evil smile before she leaned back to grab the bag she brought in with her. She pulled out food, water and some very bright and familiar clothing. "Eat up then change into these." 

"B-But I thought you weren't allowed to leave anything new in the cell with me?" 

"We can't, but they never said that we couldn't take your clothing out to be cleaned." She smiled mischievously. "Now eat and change."

Like always, Harper made the vast amount of food disappear in mere minutes before he ordered Rommie to turn around as he struggled to change. Not only was the lack of space an obstacle, but his sore stiff muscles weren't cooperating either. After much grunting, he spoke up. "Ok, turn around."

Rommie's circuits were overloaded with emotion as she saw her Harper back into his normal bright clothing. What fit him to a tee a year ago now hung off his bones as if they were bed sheets. Before he was just a messy blob of dirt, but now, with the stark comparison of the clean bright clothes, she could see how dirty he truly was. 

Harper looked down at his blackened bony shoulder that peaked out behind the orange tank top shirt he now wore. "I really am dirty, ain't I?" 

"Oh yah." Rommie agreed whole heartedly. She grabbed the discarded pile of filthy rags called clothes and yelled out to the awaiting people above them. "Trance!" 

The warden and Trance both marched up to the cell as the door creaked open. 

"Here." Rommie handed Trance the clothes. "May I suggest at least three wash cycles." 

Trance took hold of the filth. "I was thinking twenty." She disappeared with the clothing only to reappear moments latter with three large buckets of water, a bag full of sponges, three bottles of soap, and a clear bag that contained approved dangerous items like an electric razor and scissors. Dylan was still bragged about the hours of negotiating he had to go through to get those items into the prison. Trance handed down the last items and wished Rommie good luck before she vanished from view with the warden. 

The cell door was locked and privacy had been granted onto them. "Shall we begin?" Rommie asked a terrified Harper.

He gulped as he nodded and moved into the middle of the cell with Rommie. Silently, he presented his trembling right arm to be the first part of himself that would be sacrificed to the unfamiliar soapy water.

Over the next few hours, Rommie went over every inch of his body with the soft yet coarse sponges. The soapy water ran down his back as it weaved through the multitude of raised mountains of scars. She gently let the warm water clean out the grime that hid in the valleys of those mountains. All the while she hummed a calming tune that harmonized with Harper's quiet chanting. He flinched slightly as she ran the soaked bumpy sponge over the scar on his arm that now held the new bone. The dirt slowly vanished from his skin and appeared in the muddy water of one of the buckets. Rommie gasped as she saw newer bruises and cuts that rose up from under the grime. She stared in horror knowing that they could have only came from one place. Harper's head dropped as he whispered that it was no big deal. Rommie sighed and continued cleaning.

The sponge was drowned in the soapy water before it was rushed across the open air, leaving behind a rain shower that fell futile to the floor below. Rommie's soft hands ran over Harper's sickly exposed deformed ribs as she could feel and count every single bone. The warm sponge followed her cold touch but it could only rid Harper of the blood and dirt, not the scars or twisted bones.

Lastly she reached out for his moppy almost dreadlocked topped head. She gently took his bearded chin in her hand and tilted his sullen face to the side. Water rushed down his soft features taking with it the dried blood and dirt that had been his only companion for the past year. She uncovered a still blackened eye and more shallow cuts. Again Harper mumbled it was nothing. Rommie look sadly in his downcast eyes and again sighed. Bringing up the scissors, she began to hack her way through the jungle facial hair and through the mop that had replace his much missed spikes. 

And hour later, she brought out her special hidden treat. His hair gel. A small smile graced his cleanly shaven face at the site of the tiny jar he knew so well.

"There that's better," Rommie declared as she sat back wiping the excess gel from her hands.

Sitting across the puddle of muddy water now sat a man she hadn't seen for over a year. Blonde spiked hair stood up wildly from his head. His young features graced a clean, though bruised face. She tried to ignore it, but she realized that some of the stranger still managed to survive the cleansing process. Track marks now obviously stood out on his clean bare arms and the deep shadows his sunken cheeks caused now screamed for attention against the pale skin. But then she saw them. The two tiny objects she hadn't even realized she had missed so badly. Harper was staring down at his clean hands. There was no more dried blood, no dirt, no waste, nothing but skin. A smile grew across his face and ended with those two tiny magnificent objects. His dimples.

As he looked up at Rommie in awe of his new body, she returned his warm smile. "It's good to have you back Harper." 

***********

Harper fiddled with his returned spikes as he mumbled to the wall. "Yah, that would be a great way to improve engine efficiency....yah, you're right...but only if we...yah, that would work...and if we increase the surface area of the intake valves...yah..."

He wasn't sure how long it had been since the crew left him for supposedly the last time. He suspected it had been longer than a day and less than a year, but beyond that he just wasn't sure.

There were many moments where he was plagued by doubts that he would ever see the crew of Andromeda again. Every time they hopped down into his home, he was honestly surprised they were there. He still couldn't understand why they kept coming back. 

But this time was different. This time if they came back, they would have to take him with them. They couldn't just leave him behind and forget about him like he always suspected they did. He accepted that they only came to see him to ease their guilt. Was there any chance they would actually want to take him back? He twirled the spike in-between his fingers faster.

His fingers stopped suddenly when he heard it. That familiar sound he figured he would never hear again. A herd of footsteps, but this time the feet were in an angry rush. His heart raced as he quickly pinned his slight frame up against the far corner. He cursed his still clean clothes and skin as they were no help in camouflaging him in with his surroundings.

The footsteps came louder and quicker. His breathing and heart rate saw and raised the increased pace that thundered towards him.

"OPEN IT NOW!!" A deep familiar voice crackled above him in a roar of anger.

Click - hiss - Light flooded into the cell and Harper pushed himself even farther into the shadows.

A pair of boots landed with a thud before him. Then a face bent down to greet him. Beka's smiling face. She reached out towards him with an open hand. "Come on Seamus, time to go."

They came back for him. They wanted him, they really wanted him.

He reached out a trembling hand to meet Beka's. Her warm steady hand surrounded his cold hand in a firm embrace. An embrace that not even an nova bomb could tear apart. 

"Let's blow this joint." She smiled as she pulled him up out of the shadows and into the light.

Beka steadied Harper's weak shaky body in front of her as they stood fully up half way out of the cell. The light burned into Harper's eyes like lasers. He quickly brought up his arm to shield his vision from the unusual brightness only to feel the light grasp of a tender hand on his wrist.

Looking upward, he squinted through the overwhelming light. He was rewarded by the sight of Trance's beautiful face as a halo of glowing light surrounded her. "Hey." She smiled as she pulled him up as Beka supported him from below.

His bare feet touched the ground and for the first time in a year he supported his full weight on them. The bones in his legs quickly turned to jelly and gave out on him. But before he could hit the ground, two sets of hands were there to support him.

Looking around he saw Beka and Trance at his sides smiling like idiots. Dylan was staring down the warden and two guards as he had a guarded hand place on Tyr's shoulder. Tyr was currently cracking his knuckles and grinning madly at the almost cowering prison staff. The Kodak glanced at Harper and flashed him a knowing wink.

From the looks of what was coming, Harper sussed that Rommie must be on board herself preparing for a quick exit from the drift.

"Come on Kiddo, let's get you home," Beka urged as she saw Tyr inch closer to the guards. 

Beka and Trance supported Harper's body as he took his first step away from his home. After a few exhausting steps, he leaned into the women and allowed them to lead him out and away from his past.

Behind him he heard Dylan following them and in the background he heard flesh hitting flesh and the warden begging for help. He smiled as he rested his weary head on Beka's shoulder knowing that the darkness that had consumed for so long was now fading away in the shadows behind him.

****

Epilogue

The suns burned brightly into their eyes as the overly heated sand crushed under the herd of feet.

"Aw man!! Look at those waves!" Harper yelled out as he jumped around eagerly with his surfboard tucked under one of his arms. He used his free hand to pull on Beka's burden laden arms as he begged her to walk faster.

"They are huge. Are you sure it's safe?" Trance asked as she peeked out behind the beach chair she was carrying. Her eyes were greeted by a calm turquoise shallow reef that stood in front of the large roaring waves that sent echoes of thunder up to the beach.

"Nah, nah, they're perfect!" Harper now tugged at Rommie's arms, ignoring the fact that the beach blankets and bags she carried were starting to escape her mighty grasp.

Beka watched on with joy as Rommie tried to shoo Harper away from her as if he was an annoying fly. It had been close to three months since Harper had returned to them...in the physical sense at least. It was taking longer for his personality to come back. Slowly the unnerving silence was being replaced by his constant jabbering about all his new projects he was madly working on. Beka made a note to herself not to leave a genius alone for any amount of time unless you wanted insane inventions like a virtual toe racing track. As the talking increased, the jokes started to come back too. Also, smiles were now being seen more often than the blank stares. Smiles like the one that currently graced Harper's face.

"Ya sure you don't wanna learn to surf Tyr? Come on, it would impress all the uber babes." Harper now buzzed around Tyr who was trying to balance another beach chair and a large basket of food.

"First, the ability to stand on a board under a torrent of rushing water is not something that one would want to pass onto their offspring. Second, go bother Dylan. This was all his idea." Tyr grunted as he just barely caught the chair before it slipped from his arm as he stumbled in the hot sand.

Dylan had been planning this trip to Infinity Atoll since Harper was first incarcerated. The image that was currently playing out before him was what allowed him to get through the long Harperless year. His crew, all together, happy and relaxed, enjoying a well deserved true vacation. Finally, after three months, Harper was in well enough physical shape to attempt the beach trip. Each week, the engineer put on more and more weight. His muscles were almost back to normal strength, the color was returning to his cheeks, his data port was in full use and his energy level was quickly returning to its normal insanely high state. Granted, he was still very thin, but from the living skeleton he had been it was a great improvement. Dylan smiled as he watched Harper skipped towards him with a silly grin glued on his face.

"So boss, are we gonna find a spot to sit or are we gonna walk all day long?"

"How about over there?" Beka pointed out a small parcel of unclaimed beach.

"No, too far from the water," Dylan objected as the beach umbrella he had under his arm tried to squirm away from his grasp.

"There?" Trance pointed out another free spot on the glistening golden sand.

"Not enough space." Dylan argued.

"There?" Tyr tried his luck.

"Nah, too close to that loud music box."

"Let me try." Harper said as he stopped walking and took a long look around the crowded beach. Slowly his arm rose and pointed to an open area a few yards away. "There."

Dylan smiled. "Perfect." He proceeded to cheerfully march off to the designated landing zone, his captain-ness fully intact.

"How'd you know?" Beka asked in awe as she stood back with Harper as the others walked off following Dylan's lead.

"Easy. I looked for the space that was surrounded by the most women missing their bikini tops." 

Beka looked at Harper's knowing smirk and burst out laughing. It was so good to have her Seamus back!

Soon they were all settled into their claimed spot. Tyr was reclining in a beach chair, deeply engrossed in another Ann Rand novel. Trance and Rommie were laid out on towels playing cards with each other. Between Trance's luck and Rommie's thousands of calculations a second, the game was actually very challenging for each women. Currently, Trance was in desperate need of a Blue Fish. Dylan was stretched out on his stomach allowing the warm suns to toast his back. His eyes randomly roamed the surrounding area and stopped suddenly whenever he noticed a lovely lady that was missing the top to her bathing suit. Next to him laid Beka who was also allowing her back to be warmed by the twin suns, but her eyes were glued on only one person...Harper. She watched him intently as he waxed up his surf board next to her.

The rhythm of the wax rubbing against the board was hypnotizing, but Beka's worried mind couldn't be tempted into its hypnotic rhythm. She decided to voice her thoughts to a hypnotized Harper. "Are you sure it's safe? They look really big and...um... you're still-"

"Weak?" His harsh voice cut her off.

"Well, um...yah."

"I'm not, I'm fine." His voice still held more rage that she was used to from him.

Beka let it drop not wanting to anger Harper on their vacation. She let him fall back into the meditation of waxing his board.

Suddenly the hypnotic rhythm at her side stopped. Harper looked up from his colorful board and turned to face Beka. The anger was gone as he now wore a serene expression. "Thanks for caring though." He smiled at her, picked up the board and swung it under his arm. "Ok guys, I'm off. Prepared to be amazed." He then threw them a cocky grin and spun around before he dashed off towards the blue beasts that were calling his name.

Dylan's eyes willing left the bare skin of the lovely ladies to watch Harper skip away. "It's good to have him back." His smile was soon joined by four other grins as they all watched Harper fly into the water.

Harper dug his hands into the cool water and propelled himself forward. His board and body glided over the glassy surface of the crystal clear water as the colorful reef flew by underneath. His eyes widened and his heart raced as he caught a glimpse of his date. Giant rolls of water loomed ahead of him.

As he got closer, nervousness began to show itself. "They looked a lot smaller from land." He gulped down the fear and paddled faster as he entered the white water. Madly he ducked dived under a crashing wave, feeling the power of the water push him down and then back up behind the beast of a wave. He gasped for air as he resumed his mad paddling trying to reach the line up before the next set roared in.

He reached the safety of the line up and sat up on his board, his feet dangling above the still visible reef that rested far below him. As the water began to undulate again, all his thoughts vanished. His demons were no more, his nightmares were forgotten about, the past was history and the future was not an issue. All that mattered was now; now, him, his board, and the giant swells that were rushing towards him.

He absent mildly began muttering Rev's chant.

Then Harper spotted it. His wave. His face lit up and he began to paddle for the perfect position on his perfect wave. Closer and closer it came as it grew larger and larger by the second.

Harper pushed down the fear and turned his back to the wave. Trusting his instincts, he began to paddle furiously towards shore as he felt his wave take a hold of him and pick him up. Leaping to his feet, he felt the world fall away until all that existed was the blue wall that rose up on his left.

Wind and water danced on his face, adrenaline cursed through his veins and the trustiest form of a smile broke into his dimpled cheeks. The wall of water rose up and over him, encasing him in a cylinder of glistening blues. As he sped towards the decreasing light at the opening of the long barrel, he yelled out in joy. "YOO-HOO!!!"

Finally, Seamus Harper was alive again.

THE END.


End file.
